


King Under the Crown

by Lumelle



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cultural Differences, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf Gender Concepts, F/F, F/M, Female Kíli, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Injury Recovery, M/M, Nonbinary Dwarves, Other, Permanent Injury, Slow Burn, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:59:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6074994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Company of Thorin Oakenshield survives the Battle of Five Armies, but not without a cost. Thorin lies unconscious, Fíli is struggling with his injuries and the burden of playing Regent, and Ori may have taken on more than he can handle, while others are all dealing with their own pains and fears and secrets. It's not only dwarves in the mountain, of course, not after the battles they have fought, and Bilbo and Tauriel are struggling to find their place in the middle of dwarves with all their secrets and traditions and surprises.</p><p>It might seem overly important in the moment to find out who wears a particular braid or what gender they happen to be, yet in the end only a few things remain. As long as you know your family, your love, and your king, everything else will sort itself out.</p><p>If it seems like you might be the king... well. Then there may be another thing or two you need to concern yourself with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been waiting to post this one for a while, and decided to finally do so in honour of Femslash February -- while it may not seem like it right from the start, this is going to have a major femslash pairing.
> 
> This is, essentially, the darker, slow burn, "adult" cousin of [Growing Dwarves (And Kingdoms)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3163292). Considering the themes that one has, you may have some idea about how deep we are headed, though I promise a happy ending.
> 
>  **Please note** that this work contains references to/instances of sexual situations, permanent injury including loss of limb, injury recovery, minor character deaths, trans character, gender dysphoria, misgendering, loss of a parent, giving a child up for adoption, infertility, assassination plots, children in mortal danger, legal separation/divorce, sexism, and loss of honour. Furthermore, dwarves in this story have a male/female/neutral gender system independent of physical sex, and are all culturally pansexual or various flavours of asexual. There are also references to magically produced stone children as well as extramarital sex as a means of reproduction (with the knowledge and consent of all involved parties). Other content notes or tags may be added as they become relevant. In short, **here there be dragons** (figuratively).
> 
> Please read accordingly.
> 
> Regarding **pronouns** , dwarves variantly use either gender-appropriate or all-male pronouns when speaking Westron, depending on whether they consider themselves "inside mountain" or not (or whether they feel safe otherwise). Neutral gender is expressed as singular they. When speaking Khuzdul, they are assumed to use gender-neutral pronouns for everyone, though the relevant gendered pronouns may be used in dialogue for the readers' convenience (as juggling several singular theys in a sentence would get tiresome fast).

Ori did not like battle.

Of course, he had never truly expected to do so. He wasn't a warrior, had never aspired to be one. He was a scribe, had only ever wanted to be a scribe, and while he would not flee from battle he wasn't ever going to like it. He'd had some experience with battles during their quest, and it only confirmed his decision never to have anything to do with such things if he could help it.

This wasn't just a battle, though. This was war. This was screams and pain and fire and death, and as Ori staggered over fallen bodies he was sure he would never sleep again. There was no way he could ever close his eyes again, not after this, not after walking between dead dwarves and men and elves and orcs and goblins all fallen to the ground, staring at him unseeing. All he could do was walk forward, look for any sudden threat, and try to find his brothers after losing them from his sight.

He'd wandered into Dale at some point, though the city was hardly any safer. The streets were in a state of chaos, people of all races rushing to and fro, waving weapons where they could and looking for shelter where they couldn't. Some had failed in doing either, and Ori did his best not to look too carefully at some of the fallen. He would soon have nightmares without ever falling asleep.

There was a sound behind him, and he spun around, clutching a heavy war hammer in both hands. It wasn't what he had gone into battle with; his first weapon had been wrenched out of his hands at some point, leaving him grasping what he could. He hoped the original owner of the hammer could forgive him for his use of it. He hadn't been able to ask permission, not with the dwarf all but torn in half.

To his relief he didn't come face to face with a bloodthirsty orc or a goblin, though the elven prince of Mirkwood wasn't much better. The elf wasn't pointing his weapons at Ori, though, so he relaxed just a bit, though he only lowered his hammer a little. He might not see the end of this battle, but he wasn't going to be caught unawares just yet.

"Peace, Master Dwarf. I am not your enemy."

"Maybe not at the moment." He should have been more polite, perhaps, but frankly he had no patience for politeness right now. It seemed he wasn't the only one, either, as the prince only nodded.

"You are of Thorin's Company, are you not?"

"Aye, that I am." That much, at least, he could claim, for all that he was rather lacking in other honours. Even if it might only mean dying alongside his king, now. "What of it?"

"The king must be warned, he's about to be trapped up on the hill." It took Ori a moment to realise the elf was referring to Thorin and not his own father. "Is there any way you can get a message for him?"

"I — I don't know." Ori shook his head, then straightened. "I can try, though."

"Right." The elf nodded, then glanced away, his attention already elsewhere. "I need to find Tauriel. Do what you can, so this day might not end in nought but grief."

Ori could only nod, watching the elf run another way. He shook himself, then, trying to recover from his shock. Thorin was going to be trapped. Not only him, either, Ori had seen others going with him, Fíli and Kíli and Dwalin. His best warriors, his heirs, the ones he could least afford to lose. If they were overcome, that would be the end of Thorin's line.

There was no way he could make it up the hill, not in time. He had to get some word to them, though, had to find some way to warn them, lest everything be lost. Not that Ori rushing to their side would be much help anyway, all he could accomplish by that was offer another hindrance. He was not a warrior, after all.

Stumbling up the street, he spotted a horn at the belt of a fallen elf. With trembling hands he untied it from its loop, bringing it up to his mouth. He had little knowledge of horns, especially elven ones, and even if it had been as familiar to him as his own little flute he knew nothing of the warnings and signals that actual warriors might have employed. However, there was one signal he did know, one warning he could give, for all that he didn't know if it would be recognised.

Rivendell seemed to be lost in the mists of time past a lifetime ago, strange and uncomfortable but peaceful nonetheless. There hadn't been battle there, no war to terrify him, and the worst he'd encountered had been standing guard for the two princes as they sneaked around in some mischief. They'd taught him a signal, then, had made him play his flute on watch and taught him a particular rhythm to play if anyone was to come. "Danger", it was supposed to mean. "You're about to be caught."

It wasn't his flute, but he could make a sound, managed to blow the familiar rhythm above the din of the battle. He didn't know if it would be heard all the way up the hill, didn't know if they would even pay attention to an elven horn. He had to try, though, had to do everything he could. He blew the horn again, another warning, then continued his trek up the street. If he got higher up, he would be heard better, might be able to get the word to the princes. If they heard him, and if they recognised the signal, and if it wasn't already too late.

A small voice at the back of his head told him to stop, told him this was a bad idea, this would draw all the enemies to him. It was worth it, though, it had to be worth it. It wasn't much, but it was all he could do, the little scribe lost in the midst of a war he never should have been in.

An elven horn in one hand, a dwarven hammer in another, he stumbled along the streets of the city of men and wondered if he would live to see the sunset.

*

Fíli had not expected to survive the battle.

He wasn't supposed to admit this, not even to himself. A dwarven warrior always fought for victory, even when it was far out of reach. You never expected to die, you always planned for the life after the battle, and when death did come for you it was to be greeted as a worthy adversary. They were sons of Durin, and Durin's folk did not flee from a fight.

Even so, he had followed his uncle to what he had thought to be their last day. And he hadn't been the only one, he knew that much.

Thorin hadn't been the only one taking off his shining new armour, thinking it would not change the end of their fight. If they were to die, they had wanted to die as the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, just as they had come all this way. Old armour, old weapons, the old king they had followed from Thorin's halls to the Lonely Mountain and would follow even further, to the Halls of Waiting if it were to be so.

Except now the din of battle was dying down, and he was not dead yet.

He was in pain, yes, lying on the ground and unable to move, but the pain was a dull echo at the back of his mind. He suspected this was a sign it had overwhelmed him already, that his mind was closing out the reality he could not yet face. Either way, he was grateful for the reprieve. What he remembered of his pain before it all faded was not something he wished to experience again.

Someone was shouting nearby, his name or something similar to it, and Fíli tried to shift towards them but failed. There were more sounds, then, loud voices and footsteps, and he could only hope they were allies as he could not fight another moment. He could not lift his blades, could barely even turn his head, and if any wished to end him now they hardly even needed to bother.

A face came into his vision, then, a familiar one, and he breathed in relief, as much as he could breathe at all. Ori, little Ori was standing there, battered and bloodied but all in one piece, a blood-spattered hammer resting on one shoulder as though it belonged there even though Fíli well knew he should have been holding a pen instead. There was a horn at his belt, Fíli noticed, one that seemed to be of elvish make, and he managed to wonder about it for a moment before the effort of thinking grew too much.

"He's here!" Ori was shouting to someone over his shoulder, though Fíli couldn't turn to see who was following him. "I found Fíli, he's alive!"

Barely, but he was alive, that much was true. He tried to smile as Ori fell to his knees next to him but even that seemed like an impossible feat. All he could do was blink slowly as Ori reached a trembling hand toward him, not quite touching.

"They're coming, you'll be just fine, everything's going to be all right." Ori was rambling, his voice shaking as much as his hand, but he was alive and that at least was a relief. "We found Thorin, too, Bilbo did, he's being carried to the healers now, he's unconscious but he's alive. You're alive, you're going to be fine, you survived."

Thorin was alive. That was good, that was very good. However, there was something Ori wasn't saying, something hidden behind the too many words. Fíli frowned, gathering all his strength to speak, hoping Ori would hear him. "Kíli? My brother?"

Ori's face darkened. "We haven't found him yet," he said, his hand finally settling on Fíli's chest. The touch was light, Fíli barely even felt it through his clothes, but it was nice nevertheless. It reminded him he was still here, in this body, even as his senses seemed to be escaping it to flee from the pain and terror. "But that's not only bad! We haven't found him, he's still out there somewhere, we haven't…" Hadn't found him dead. Yes. That wasn't bad, not at all.

"Right." Fíli sighed. Ori looked so stricken, his face pale beneath all the dirt and blood, his hair a matted mess and clothes torn. Fíli wondered if any of the blood was his own. He hoped not. It would have been just like Ori, coming to look for others before seeing to his own injuries.

Others reached them, then, Óin and Bifur and Dori where Fíli could see, with others further away, unfamiliar faces from Dáin's army. He was sure he even saw a man or two, but they didn't matter, only the Company mattered as they rushed closer.

Óin had never been too gentle with his words, nor did he insist on being so now as he crouched next to Fíli. "You're in bad shape, lad," he grumbled, eyes and hands running over Fíli. "Pretty smashed up, too. I'll try to save your life, but I can't guarantee I'll save all bits of you."

Fíli tried to nod, not that he had much luck. That didn't surprise him, not really. For all that he was closing out most of the pain, or perhaps just so overwhelmed by it he couldn't register all of it, he knew some parts of him should have been aching much more than they were. Knew he should have been able to feel some of them.

"Do I have permission, then?" Óin looked at him, oddly serious. "For you and your uncle, to save what I can?"

Thorin was unconscious, Fíli remembered, realised with a startle what that meant. Óin was asking him not only for him but for his uncle, too, because he was the next from Thorin, because with Thorin out of it he was the head of the Company for all that he shouldn't have been, not for many long decades yet. He was too shocked by this to say anything for a moment, eyes flickering from Óin to Ori, then back. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the strength to do so.

"Do what you must." It was Ori who spoke, much to Fíli's surprise, his voice still wavering but loud enough to be heard by all around them. "If there's any argument afterwards, let it be on my head."

"Ori!" Dori exclaimed, shocked. He tried to step forward, but stopped as Ori looked at him.

"I couldn't warn them in time," he said, a desperate tone to his voice. "I tried to, but I couldn't. It's my fault they're hurt like this. If any have quarrel with that, let them bring it to me."

"Ori," Fíli whispered, barely audible even to his own ears. It was all he could manage, though, all he got out as he felt his consciousness fading further and further away with every passing moment.

Óin, however, nodded. "I'll take that," he said, allowing no argument. "You were here before us, you'd know his will best. Come, I'll need helping hands if I want to get anything done."

There were more words, then, words and shouts and hands on him, but Fíli could not make sense of it all anymore. He was falling into darkness, deep and cold and endless, and if it allowed him some relief from the pain he welcomed it.

As everything else faded away he was sure he could hear the sound of a horn, warning him of danger.

*

"Are you Kíli's elf?"

Tauriel blinked, turning to look at whoever had spoken to her. She had been standing out of the way, looking at the crowd around her in something of a daze. The men and dwarves rushed past her without any concern, the elves pointedly ignored her whenever they happened to look at her, but none had found any reason to approach her so far. To be directly addressed was surprising. "What?"

"Are you the elf who healed Kíli in Laketown?" The dwarf in front of her looked vaguely familiar. One of the Company, she suspected. "I think you are, I'm good with faces and I was told he was healed by the one who spoke with him in the dungeons, but I'll admit I'm not too good with elves."

"I — yes, I am." Tauriel nodded slowly. "Why? Is someone asking for me?" A strange hope surged within her, though she knew it to be futile. Kíli would have more immediate concerns, if indeed he had survived the battle.

Oh, how Tauriel hoped he had survived the battle.

"Aye, you could say that." The dwarf nodded. "It's — some of the Company are rather badly off. The older prince for one, it seems he'll lose his arm, and there's the Captain, he's got his leg chopped clean off. And Thorin is hurt badly as well, and — well. I was hoping you might help them."

"I am no healer as such, but I suppose I could be of help." It would be better than just standing without anywhere to go and waiting for Legolas to find her, if indeed he wished to do so at all. "Are you sure I will be allowed, though? I hardly think most dwarves will be happy to let me anywhere near their king and prince while they are so vulnerable."

"Oh, you shouldn't worry about that. Óin has taken charge of their care, and he's the one who suggested I find you; seems he was rather impressed by what you did in Laketown." The dwarf looked tired, she noted, as tired as she felt, smudged with dirt and blood and all sorts of unmentionable things. His hair had a hint of perhaps having had some design at some point, but by now it as a complete mess. "If you could help, I'd be grateful. I'll give you payment when I get my share, you've my word on that, if the word of a dwarf means anything to you."

"They are kin to Kíli. Knowing that I might help them is reward enough." She finally started moving, walking to the direction of the mountain, where she supposed the dwarves would be. "And do you have any special reason for asking me? I don't recall you to have been present when I purged him of the poison."

"My younger brother has staked his own safety on the well-being of the prince, and I… well. I've got myself some obligation towards the Captain, from back in the day." The dwarf came to walk with her, his steps notably light despite his exhaustion. "Ah. Nori, son of Vuori, at your service."

"Tauriel, at yours." She almost claimed herself of the Greenwood, only to realise she couldn't, not anymore, not after she had been banished. She had thrown her lot in with the dwarves, even knowing they might not receive her, and now that the reason she had done so was not here she found herself somewhat at a loss. "Ah. Where is Kíli?"

Nori's face darkened, and she felt her heart drop. "We've not found him yet, I fear," Nori replied. "Which I suppose is good as well, we've checked the place he was last seen so he must have moved since then, but I can't give you any answers."

"I see." It was better than the alternative, she supposed, for all that it still left her with no direction. "I'll — I suppose I'll find the leader of the men after I'm done helping your healer, ask if I might have a place in Dale. They ought to need someone who can bind wounds and such. So, if Kíli's found and asks for me…" She trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

"I'll let him know where you are." The dwarf nodded. "You could just stay and wait for him in the mountain, you know. If you help Fíli, I doubt you're going to be chased off just like that, none in the Company would allow that."

"And yet I could not believe my welcome, nor do I think the other healers would want my help." Tauriel shook her head. "No, I will stay as long as I'm needed, and no more. I'll be more use helping the men of Dale than dithering about in the mountain, drawing the distrust of everyone. You may find me again then if you have no need of me, but if Kíli is not there, I hardly find reason to linger."

"Whatever you say, lass." The dwarf sighed, running a hand over his messed up hair. "I suspect it'll be a while before any of us have found our place after this mess."

Tauriel was not so sure she would ever find hers, but to voice that seemed needlessly bleak in the already dark situation.

*

"Good evening."

Nori didn't look over as they heard someone coming up, didn't move as that someone sat down next to them. It was too late at night to get up to any squabbles, and in any case they knew the voice. If Bofur had some strange wish to join Nori in their sleepless vigil, well, they weren't about to stop the fool.

"Was wondering where you'd gone." Bofur settled down on the other half of the large rock Nori had claimed as their seat, starting to pat her pockets, probably in search of a pipe. Nori was holding their own, yet hadn't even packed it yet, never mind lit. Such things would have demanded more thought and energy than they felt capable of right now.

"Just needed a break, that's all. I'd say I wanted to get away from the smell of blood, but I don't think that's going to happen any time soon." There was a stench over the entire place, that of blood and death and smoke, and while it could have been worse it was not pleasant by any measure. "Besides, I was told in no uncertain terms I was only in the way for now."

"Aye, better leave the healers to do what they do best." Bofur was quiet for a while. "So, I heard something strange, running around helping the others as I did."

"Many strange things to be heard, here. There's a lot of strange people about. " Even though Nori had a sinking feeling that they knew precisely what Bofur was going on about.

"It wasn't really anything anyone told me, not quite. Just a little aside mention that caught my ear, that's all, but it got me wondering." Another pause, as though the occasional silence might make Nori more likely to answer questions. "Dori made some mention of your husband."

"Aye, I suppose she might have." Dori always babbled when she was worried, and she would be, now, what with Ori getting himself into trouble even after the battle was over and Nori being as troublesome as they had ever been. "What of it?"

"Just, you know. Never knew you were married, to begin with." Bofur finally dug out her pipe with a little 'a-hah!' sound. "Also, from the way she was speaking, it rather seemed I might know said husband."

Nori snorted. Subtlety was not one of Bofur's strengths, whatever she might have hoped. "If you're trying to work your way into asking if Dwalin and I are married, then your answer is yes."

"That does answer some of my questions, yes." What, but not all of them? "It's just, neither of you act much like it, that's all. Don't even seem to remember it, really. I certainly haven't seen either of you wearing marriage braids, and I've had a lot of time to look."

"Things aren't always that simple." Nor that painless. "He hasn't worn his braids in a while, and it seems childish for me to wear mine in turn when he won't acknowledge it on his end."

Bofur nodded, as though it had been that easy. "Do you want to share what happened? Only if you don't mind, that is, I can certainly live without knowing, but I've got to admit it's made me a bit curious."

"It's not a happy tale, as you might guess. Certainly it's not a short one."

"That's fine." Bofur dug out her pouch of pipeweed, frowning at what was probably a pitifully small amount of it inside, and then started packing her pipe. "I've nowhere to be for at least the length of a pipe, and I've heard sad tales before."

Well. They supposed it couldn't really hurt, and talking was better than sitting here in silence and fretting over things they could not help.

"I met him in a tavern." Nori shrugged, ignoring the surprised look Bofur was giving them. "I know, I know, not the most romantic of starts, but it worked well enough for us. I wasn't looking for anything or anyone, just wanted a night of fun, and he was there with his scowl and his muscles and everything." Oh, they remembered very well how Dwalin had looked that night, a hungry look in his eyes and his hands reaching out to touch. "Except then one night turned into two and three and more. We didn't plan it at first, we just both kept going back to the same tavern in hopes of meeting again, and of course since both of us were doing that we ended up meeting there quite often."

Bofur nodded. "Aye, more than one marriage's started with a good tankard of ale, or so I've been told."

"Of course, we didn't realise at first that this was what we were doing, but it did dawn on us eventually." Nori shrugged. "There was some talk about it. After all, I was barely of age, and certainly not considered good enough for the king's best friend to marry, but they couldn't exactly stop us, either. Certainly not when Thorin showed his support for Dwalin's choices. Dori kept worrying up until the wedding day that something was going to go wrong, because surely I couldn't be so lucky as to get married to someone who could at least feed me no matter what, even if the times were tough even for the nobles."

Nori paused, playing with the pipe they hadn't quite lit yet. "At first it was good. Or, I thought it was good. We were ridiculously in love, the way only the young can be, and had time for little but each other. Except the world was moving on around us, and we had to move with it, and get back to our lives. Dwalin went wherever Thorin went, as he was supposed to, and though he offered for me to go with them I knew there'd be little for me to do. After all, the men would hardly want a dwarf doing their sewing and seaming, they had their own workers for that, and I'd just have been in the way in the smithy. Never had much of a talent for that kind of stuff, me. Suppose it just isn't in me, for all that I have the strength as needed."

"Aye. Not all can have the same talent, after all."

"Indeed." Nori looked out into the night. There were little lights out in the dark despite the dark hour, healers and builders and all manner of people who couldn't stop working even as the rest of them slept. "Except I couldn't do my own trade, either, not back home. The dwarves I'd worked for previously thought I'd risen too far above them, or just above my station, and would not hear of giving me work. And the nobles, the ones who were supposed to be my equal, looked down on me for my birth and my family. I did get some work, but not much, and could bring little coin home. Which didn't matter, not for me, I was part of the noble families now and they at least fed me if nothing else, even when Dwalin was away for a long while every now and then with no word as to how he was doing."

Bofur made a sound. "And then something happened?"

"Not really, no. Rather, something stayed the same." Nori drew their shoulders in, hunching a bit. "It was a bad year for everyone, and Thorin and Dwalin were away, sending home what little they could. Many went hungry in the mountain that winter, though I was kept fed enough even with my idle hands. But Dori and Ori weren't at our table, not then. Ori was especially suffering, poor thing was only thirty-four and was supposed to be growing except he couldn't with his empty belly, and while Dori scraped together what she could it was never truly enough."

This time, Bofur didn't speak. Then, Nori supposed she probably knew that feeling all too well.

"I should have asked for help, I know that now, should have asked my new family for aid in feeding my old one. However, my pride would not let me do that, and I was rather sure neither would Dori's have allowed her to accept such help, not like that. There were rumours enough already, about how I was basically whoring myself out to the noble for the sake of an easier life, I could not let them say the same about my siblings who never did a thing wrong except be born in the same family as I. But I couldn't help them, not without the work that none could give me, and I couldn't even help Dori with her commissions when nobody would give her enough to make the coin from them in the first place." Nori shook their head. "It was so easy at first, getting the coin from those who had it. I moved with nobles, after all, knew who could afford to lose some. There are always a few who do well no matter what, and even as Thorin worked in the villages of men there were those in his mountain who sat back and grew fat on the backs of others. I thought it was surely only fair that I levelled the playing field a little, moved a coin from this pocket or that purse into Dori's hands. She never asked me too many questions, beyond that I hadn't got them from Balin. I'm still not sure if she truly believed I had an easier time finding work because of my position, or if she just chose to believe so for the sake of putting food in front of Ori."

"You got caught, though." Well, it wasn't a hard conclusion to draw. After all, Nori's less than legal activities were rather well known among the Company.

"Aye, I did. At that point Dwalin had returned, though only just; he'd only been home a few days when he was called to the cells to find me there. The look on his face when he saw me, heard what I was accused of... well. I'm not sure I've ever seen someone look at me with such disgust." It had been years, decades even, yet they could hardly bear the memory of that look. Nothing had ever stung so badly, not even Dori's most disappointed looks. "He never listened to me, never let me explain, just turned around and walked out. He had Balin pay my fine the next morning, and when I was let out he was waiting for me at the doors of the guard house."

"Wasn't good, then, I take it." Bofur had at last lit her pipe, taking a puff of it and blowing smoke into the darkened sky.

"Not really, no." Nori shook their head. "He told me to go home and get my belongings, and to be gone by the time he came. And to drive the point home, he handed me his marriage braid, cut it out with his own hand and gave it to me, just like that." They shrugged. "I did as I was told, of course, and didn't even nick anything that wasn't mine. I was too proud and angry, I suppose, didn't even take anything he had gifted me with, left with nothing but what I had brought with me or bought with what little coin I had. I was seventy when we married, and seventy-five when he cast me out, and since that day I've not believed a promise, certainly not one from the line of Durin."

"I'm sorry." Bofur touched their arm, just a light touch, though they supposed it was enough of a show of support.

"It's been a while. The wound has scarred over, if not healed." Nori ran a hand over their hair. It was a frightful mess, no doubt, but it wasn't like they'd had much time for vanity after the battle. "After that I only went back once, to speak to Balin about Ori's apprenticeship. I offered to pay the usual fee, of course, only asked them to consider him as a student for the sake of our connection, however tenuous it might have been. Balin, the old fool, told me they'd teach the lad without a fee at all, because it would have been dishonourable of them to ask family for coin for something they ought to have done either way."

"That was well done of them, then." Bofur offered Nori a faint smile. "Not everyone would do that, not even for born family."

"I suppose. I never questioned it, didn't have the will to. It was the only way Ori could get the teaching he needed; Dori couldn't afford an apprenticeship with a decent master otherwise, and it was clear enough the lad needed a proper teacher and not some talentless sod who could barely hold a pen. He got Balin, though, and that's the only good thing that ever came out of my marriage, and it's for that reason only that I agreed when I was asked to join the Company. Didn't much like the idea of working with Dwalin, still, but I felt I had a debt to Balin at least, and I don't much like being indebted to people." They put their pipe away, still unlit. "Never wanted Dori and Ori to come along, never thought they might. Should have known better, I suppose, what with Ori following his master, but what can you do. I thought I'd come and either they'd be rid of me, or I'd return with my gold and make sure they'd never want for anything again. Except they both came along, and now Dori is fretting herself sick and Ori is making vows I'm not sure he fully understands, and my idiot of a husband got himself cut apart for getting between me and an orc, because my life wasn't difficult enough already without the Valar making some sort of a joke out of it all."

"I'm sorry." And perhaps Bofur was, who knew. She was the kind who probably was genuinely sorry and not just saying it, what with her habit of always drawing close to people no matter how abrasive or unwelcoming they were. After all, it wasn't like Nori was the most welcoming of dwarves, themselves, and yet Bofur had managed to stick close to them on the journey, was still sitting close as though that was something one did.

"I made my bed, guess it's my time to lie in it." Nori shook their head. "No idea what's wrong with the oaf, though. He had no reason to be there, no reason to come to my rescue. He's spent the last few decades trying to either ignore my existence or to make it as miserable as possible, depending on how many crimes I've been involved in lately. And now he stands between me and the biggest, ugliest orc I've seen in a while, stands there and tells me to run, and really when have I ever done as he says? Idiots, the whole lot of them."

Bofur nodded in thought, taking another puff of her pipe. "And yet here you are, worrying over him and asking an elf for help in healing him."

"Yes, well, don't have much of a choice, do I? Someone's got to look after him, and with Thorin insensible and Balin only waking up every now and then there's hardly anyone else about to do it. And as I said, I don't like to be indebted to anyone. Hard not to feel like I should do something when the idiot gave up his leg for my sake, whatever his reason might have been for doing it."

"So what are you going to do now?" A fair question, that, but it didn't make it easy to answer.

"Keep an eye on the idiot, I suppose, and nurse him back to health unless he tells me to get lost. Help Dori keep Ori out of any more trouble, too, if that's even possible now that he's apparently linked his fate to that of the crown prince, and that's a foolish thing to do if I ever heard of one. Once I'm satisfied that Ori won't get himself killed for his foolishness and Dwalin won't die, well, I'm sure there'll be plenty to do in the mountain for a long while yet, and it's not like I could just carry off all the gold that belongs to me."

"Aye, it seems our shares in the treasure are rather bigger than we expected." To say the least. "We're staying, too, Bifur and Bombur and I. We talked about it before the battle, even, that we'd stay here if we lived through it all. Our lives were in Ered Luin, sure, but we can make new ones here, and if all goes as planned there'll be plenty of people and life in this old mountain and much more work for honest miners besides. There's going to be word sent to Ered Luin soon enough, I wager; we thought we'd ask them to pass along a message to Bombur's Vati, that she might come meet us here when the first caravans come. It's no place to raise a family, Ered Luin isn't."

"Nor is Erebor, not until we've got all the bodies cleaned out at least." Nori looked out into the darkness for a moment longer, then sighed and got to their feet. "Well. I suppose I should at least peek in on the process, see that the elf hasn't managed to kill my thrice-cursed husband in my absence. Not that it wouldn't make things easier for me, mind, but it seems a bad thing for him to die of help that I arranged for him to have."

"Aye, might be a good idea. Not that I doubt her ability, mind, she did a right good thing in Laketown with Kíli, but I'm not so sure she can work miracles and from what I hear Dwalin wasn't too well off at the moment."

"Not exactly, no." Nori could recall it all too well, the mangled flesh and pale face and the trembling hand reached out toward them, asking for something neither Dwalin nor Nori themselves could voice, not truly, not yet. Things were too raw, long-scarred wounds ripped open by new fear and hope and questions, and Nori was damn well going to see Dwalin live if only so they could ask him what in Mahal's name had possessed him to do something so foolish.

Not that they cared. They absolutely didn't care. Why would they, after Dwalin had cast them out without so much as a backwards glance?

If Nori's hand went to their wrist as they walked back into the mountain, well, none of the dwarves rushing to and fro was paying too much attention.

Not that they would have known what to make of the old, matted braid tied around Nori's wrist, anyway.

*

"Mind if I join you?"

Bilbo looked up from where he sat packing his pipe, half expecting one of the Company to stand there. Instead he found Dáin Ironfoot standing there, looking for all the world as though he were just a neighbour hoping for a quick pipe and a chat instead of a dwarf lord who still hadn't taken off most of his armour even as they had made it into another day. "Ah. Sure." As though he could have stopped him.

"Excellent." Dáin plopped himself down on the large stone Bilbo had chosen as his seat. With the battle over, three camps had quickly been established for the care of the wounded and the organisation of the survivors who fared better. The men were in the ruins of Dale, of course, elves a little further along the plain, while dwarves had made their camp half inside the mountain and half right outside its ruined gates. The stone Bilbo was sitting on was at the outskirts of the dwarven camp, looking out onto the battlefield.

They were lucky it was winter, he mused. Had the battle been in summertime, the stench would have been unbearable long before they got rid of all the dead.

"Been too busy to even breathe, I have," Dáin said, taking out his own pipe and starting to pack it as well. "Thought I'd get a little break once the battle was over, but no, apparently I can't do that as long as I have to act regent. And that's going to be until either Fíli or Thorin wake up or we find Kíli alive and well somewhere, so frankly I don't fancy my chances of getting much sleep tonight, either."

"There's a lot to be done, to be sure." Bilbo himself had managed to nod off for only a moment, as the night had turned into dawn, only to be waken up by nothing but a chilling sense of dread as nightmares of friends falling among enemies filled his mind. Other than that he had busied himself where he could, aiding Óin and other healers with the wounded or carrying messages between the camps. He'd been surprised but pleased to see some cooperation there, with soldiers from all armies banding together to look for survivors and healers accepting patients without looking at their race or size. He could only hope that promised well for the coming days and weeks as well.

If he was still here to see any of it, anyway.

"Aye, that's true." Dáin nodded. "Lucky Thorin, sleeping through the worst of it."

"Ah. How is Thorin, anyway?" Bilbo only knew he was alive, had seen him carried to the mountain and then Fíli after him. He didn't exactly blame dwarves for not wanting to leave their king and prince in the healing tents, taking them to the safety of the mountain instead, but it did mean he couldn't see them himself. Not as long as he didn't dare go into the mountain, anyway.

"Better than you'd expect, really. Got his foot stabbed through, but it should heal; the thing that most concerns the healers is his head wound. They don't know when he's to wake up, but seem convinced that if he does he'll live." Which meant he wasn't guaranteed to do so just yet.

"I'm glad to hear that." He was, really, had been so very worried. He was still worried, of course, over Thorin and Fíli and Kíli who they still hadn't found dead or alive, but at least two of them were definitely breathing and that was better than knowing nothing.

"You could just go see him yourself, you know. He's well guarded but I'd imagine they'll let you through no problem."

"Ah. I'm not so certain, not after what I did." Not after what Thorin had done in response to his betrayal.

Dáin lit his pipe without a word, then reached out to do the same for Bilbo. He then drew a long drag of his pipe, holding the smoke and blowing it out again before he spoke.

"I know far too well how impossible it sometimes is to make the line of Durin listen. I'm one myself, would be strange if I didn't." Dáin shook his head. "Besides, I spoke with Balin at length, or as much so as his condition allowed. I figured he'd know the circumstances better than I who only arrived after most of it had happened. His side of the story was most enlightening, particularly the mention that he himself had told you that giving Thorin the Arkenstone would only make matters worse."

"The choice was mine, though." Even if it had been the only choice he could have made.

"Oh, I've no doubt of that. You seem a sensible one, Master Hobbit, I'm sure you came up with the plan all on your own." Dáin slapped his shoulder, and it was only due to prolonged exposure to dwarves that Bilbo was certain it was meant as a friendly gesture and not an attack. "I was young when Thrór first showed the madness, never saw much of it with my own eyes, but I've heard stories enough. Your little trick delayed the battle just long enough for me to arrive, and for that, you have only my thanks."

"I just didn't want to see them all die for stupid piles of gold." Stupid, dead piles of gold that had stolen away the Thorin he knew.

"Aye, I know. And because of that, I'm officially lifting your banishment, in my current position as a regent and all." Dáin grinned, and for all that he was broad and rough and nothing like Fíli or Kíli at all, for a moment he reminded Bilbo of the young princes so much it made him ache inside. "Mahal knows Thorin needs more people who aren't afraid to speak up against him. Seems to me you'll fit the bill just fine."

"I, ah. I will at least try. Not that I can guarantee he'll listen to me." Not that he could be sure Thorin would even want to see him after all was said and done.

"Nobody can guarantee that, certainly not with Thorin."

"That's at least familiar." Bilbo puffed at his own pipe, thinking. "Ah. Maybe you could clear up something for me? Since you seem to have been in contact with the rest of the Company." Bilbo had seen some of them, particularly Óin and Ori and glimpses of others, but he hadn't had time for actual conversations with anyone.

"I'll answer if I can, but I'd need the question first." Yes. Definitely reminded him of the princes.

"Earlier, Ori and I were both helping at the healing tents." It was depressing work to be sure. So many wounded and dying, and so many they couldn't help beyond making their last moments more comfortable. "And, well, at some point Dori came in and started arguing with Ori. The healers chased him off before it went too far, but I was wondering what was going on and didn't want to push Ori too much about it. Dori said something about Ori putting himself in danger? But that can't be about the battle, we were all there, after all."

"Ah. I assume that would be about Fíli." Dáin nodded solemnly. "You know he lost his arm, no?"

"I do, yes." Bilbo swallowed, nodding. He had heard of it, yes, how Fíli's right arm had been crushed beyond repair. He hadn't seen it for himself, and from the description given by Ori he was rather glad for that small mercy.

"Well, as it happens, it didn't just drop off on its own. Óin had to cut it off, with the help of a she-elf of all things, except Fíli was too far gone in pain to give his spoken permission, and Thorin wasn't awake either. I suspect Óin would have done so anyway, he's not one to let a patient die to shield himself, but either way I'm told Ori offered to take responsibility."

"Responsibility?" Bilbo frowned. "For what, exactly?"

"It's not a simple matter, cutting bits off the crown prince, even when you are a healer. If someone were malicious enough you might be charged with treason if you didn't ask for permission first, which might get tricky when the royal family decides to get hurt or killed all at once."

"Right." Sometimes he almost forgot, somehow, that Thorin wasn't the only royal member of the company. With him it was impossible to forget, with all his majestic demeanour and such, but in Bilbo's mind Fíli and Kíli were just young lads in search of an adventure, not grand and majestic princes. "Ah. Is Ori going to be in trouble, then? Or Óin?"

"Hardly." Dáin snorted. "If someone had started sawing off healthy parts just for fun, sure, but it seems clear to me or anyone with eyes that Óin only did what was necessary. I saw what was left of the arm, and let me tell you, it was little more than mincemeat. Nasty things, orcish weapons. Not only would it have been beyond Óin's skills to save the arm, it would no doubt have soon festered and put Fíli's life at a risk as well. I hardly think anyone will be foolish enough to argue. Besides, I gave it my blessing soon as I heard of the issue. If against all odds anyone in charge wants to make a problem of it, I'll be the first one on the chopping block."

"That's good." Bilbo belatedly realised what his comment might have sounded like, almost choking on his pipe smoke as he spluttered, and wouldn't that have been the most undignified way to die. "Ah. Not that I wish for you to come to any harm! It's just, it would be horrible to think they might get in trouble for only trying to help Fíli!"

"Oh, I know what you meant, and I quite agree. Not that I think it was ever a true danger in this situation. If anything, I'd expect them to be rewarded for their quick actions once Thorin and Fíli wake up."

"I'd assume they would settle on Thorin and Fíli waking up in the first place." Just thinking about it made Bilbo's heart freeze in his chest. They had to wake up, both of them, and Kíli had to be found. He couldn't believe they would have come all this way only to perish now.

"Aye, perhaps. And do they not deserve all the more reward for that?" Dáin blew out a smoke ring that disappeared into the wind almost instantly. "Make no mistake, Master Baggins, I have no plans to take up Erebor if only I can avoid it. One or both of them will wake, and Kíli will come traipsing in from wherever he wandered off to, and you will see your king crowned, yet. So don't go fleeing from us, all right? Balin especially stressed I should make that clear to you. There's no fleeing to be done, or he'll be very upset. Might well chase you down once he's out of bed himself, if I know him at all."

"I suppose I have no choice, then." Balin, at least, he trusted to be his friend. "Ah. So, you think I'd be allowed in if I went to see Thorin?" And Fíli, he'd have to drop by Fíli as well, and all the others in the Company he hadn't seen yet, but he needed to see Thorin first of all. Needed to see that he was still alive and breathing, if only just.

"Anyone argues, just flash them that mithril shirt of yours. That's a kingly gift if I ever saw one, they can't argue against your right when you're wearing that." Dáin was teasing him, Bilbo suspected, he knew the look in his eyes far too well. Even so, his voice was kind, and the hand that touched Bilbo's shoulder again was gentler this time. "I'm going there later today myself, in any case. If you'd like, I can ask for you to be brought along, so I can make it clear to the guards that you're allowed in, being one of the Company and all. It shouldn't be hard to get the word around, what with you being the only halfling about."

"If that's not too much trouble." Even if Thorin hated him, Bilbo couldn't stay away just yet.

"I wouldn't have offered if it were." Dáin stood up, now, and the look he gave Bilbo was something between amused and sympathetic, eyes crinkling between bushy eyebrows and huge beard. "You've come with my cousin this far. Would be a pity for you to turn your back on him now."

Bilbo should have protested, really. He should have pointed out that he had, in essence, turned his back on Thorin, or perhaps murmured something about how he could not have abandoned Thorin, not now, not when he was caught between life and death like this. Instead, he stayed silent, looking out into the battlefield even as he heard Dáin walking away and bellowing orders at someone in rough Khuzdul he could not understand. It was calming in a way, seeing the movement out in the field, hearing the sounds from the dwarven camp behind him. Sounds of pain, yes, on occasion, as some of the wounded cried out, but also sounds of life, dwarves talking and walking and mending and cooking and all working together to get through the day.

They were alive. Bilbo was alive, too, for all that he was much changed by the journey. The battle was over and it was a new day, and once this day ended there would be another.

For now, that had to be enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Fíli wakes up, there are quite a few things to adjust to. Of course, the worst thing is that they still have no idea where Kíli is. The Ri siblings have their own difficulties, though Nori would just settle for getting some sleep for a change.
> 
> There are negotiations to get to, of course, and Fíli will have to take care of it no matter how tired he is. It just might be worth it, though, for the news about his sibling -- though Tauriel will find Kíli first. Of course, there are still surprises to be had.

There was a stone ceiling above him.

This made Fíli blink. Last he remembered he had been outside, had seen the sky above him beyond Ori and Óin's worried forms. Yet he was inside without a doubt, now, laid in what must have passed for a bed, a blanket spread over him for warmth. This was a good sign, he supposed, as it meant he hadn't just been left outside. Also, there were people enough that they'd managed to clean a room and carry him there. That was good, that was definitely good.

Slowly he turned his head, surveying the room. There wasn't much to see, really; what furniture there was seemed to be bare undecorated stone, worn by time and neglect. His eyes met a fireplace with low flames, and that was a good sign, too. They didn't have much fuel, he knew that much, only some rotten remains from old Erebor and whatever Dáin had brought with him as supplies. If someone had managed to get a fire going, that meant things weren't entirely in chaos.

As he turned his head to the other side, he spotted a dozing figure in a seat by his side. His lips twitched at the familiar sight of Bofur, hat pulled low over his eyes. There was a wooden figurine of some sort in his hands, a knife almost fallen from his fingers in his sleep. That was a comforting sight, really. If his guard could rest so easily, Fíli didn't think he was in grave danger.

Fíli made to push himself up to a sitting position, only to freeze when he found he couldn't. He felt one arm lying at his side, set his hand against the bed, ready to push. The other one… well. There was pain somewhere below his shoulder, but further down, he felt nothing at all.

He must have made some kind of a sound as Bofur started awake, the figurine and knife both rolling down to the floor as he sat up straighter, hands flying up to his hat. "Fíli?" Bofur was out of his seat in an instant as he saw him awake, rushing to his side. "Now, calm down there, lad. Óin will have my whiskers if he sees I let you work yourself into a state."

"I — it's not —" A memory occurred to him, one so vague and filled with pain it seemed like a fleeting nightmare rather than any reality. He remembered Óin's face, more grave than Fíli had ever seen it before, save for perhaps that horrid night in Laketown when he'd feared losing his only sibling. He remembered a question, even then only barely reaching through the haze of pain, remembered the pain that was and wasn't — "My arm."

"Afraid so." Bofur sighed, a gentle hand on Fíli's chest pushing him down onto the bed. "It was mangled beyond saving, from what I hear. Even the elf agreed your hand could not be fixed, it was broken too badly for that. And, well, with the state the rest of your arm was in, they decided it was better to cut their losses so to speak and take it all off rather than take the chance it'd get infected and take the rest of you with it."

"Right. I — I think I remember." He also had the vague sense that there had been more to it, though what that had been, he wasn't quite sure. "Wait. Elf?"

"Aye. The same one as in Laketown. Óin sent Nori to find her, since it seemed many were badly off. She helped him with your arm and Dwalin's leg — seems he got one cut right off from under him, nasty stuff — and Thorin, too, he's still not awake. No idea where she went afterwards, though Nori might know. She only said she'd be back to keep an eye on you, but didn't want to stick around."

"Tauriel." That was the name Kíli had been sighing. …Kíli. "You mentioned Thorin. Where's my brother?"

Bofur's eyebrows rose up at his choice of words. "Your sibling hasn't been found yet, I'm afraid. We checked where she was last seen fighting, though, so if she'd fallen we would know."

"Right. Sibling. We're in a mountain." And finally, truly, he could say that. It had seemed wrong to claim that when Thorin had been deep in his madness, when they couldn't truly feel safe even behind the thick walls of Erebor itself, not with the darkness lurking within. But now that was over, and they were in a mountain, and there was no reason for deception for the sake of safety. "I — I have to confess, I can't recall your braids." He was sure he'd seen them at some point, he must have, but there had been little reason to pay attention on the road when everyone was supposed to be the same, and Bofur wore a hat most of the time anyway.

Bofur chuckled. "Aye, don't suppose I can blame you for that. I count myself a crafter, if it pleases your highness, and a female one at that."

"Yes, well, the crafter part isn't much of a surprise." Fíli managed a wan smile, lifting a hand — the one he still had — to his own hair. It was a mess, tangled from the battle and everything, though at least it seemed any outright dirt had been cleaned off. His fingertips found one of the few braids he wore, the one declaring his own gender and occupation. "I have to say, it will be strange to start addressing everyone properly again. I'm not sure I've ever spent so long calling Kíli my brother."

"I'd say you have time to get used to things, but I'm afraid it's not going to be that simple." Bofur's lips twitched. "Unless Thorin manages to wake up soon, chances are you'll be a busy bee indeed as soon as you can sit up straight without help, if not before. Dáin's running things for the most part now, but I think they would be quite happy to get you doing that instead."

"I can't do that!" That was just absurd. "I don't know anything about this ruling business. Well, of course I've seen Thorin do it from time to time, and they've taught me a lot, but I have no experience at all! Surely there are others better qualified for that."

"Not really, no." Bofur shook his — no, her, the mountain was theirs again, it was her head. "Balin lives, but they're still mostly stuck in bed, and not awake much. Thorin hasn't woken up at all yet, and really, people need to see you as soon as you can manage it. We've won, but it was no easy victory, and speaking as one of the lowly ones, having some proof that the royal line endures would do wonders for the morale."

"Right." Fíli sighed. That made sense, in a way that left him nauseous at the thought. "Well, I'll do what I can. I will be horrid at it, mind, but hopefully I won't have to do it for long."

"No offence, but I think we all are hoping for that." Bofur took a step back. "Now, promise to stay put when I go get Óin? I think he'll want to look you over now that you're awake. There should be a guard at the door, so no worries. Anything you need right away?"

"Ah. Some water, please." And a pain draught, the strongest they had, but he supposed he'd have to ask Óin for that. "And something to eat, if I'm allowed. Oh, and someone who can tell me what the current situation is." Hey, if he was going to have to rule until Thorin recovered, he might as well try to do it right.

"Will do. I think Ori was bringing food around a little bit ago, and he probably knows something of the situation as well, rushing around like he does. If I can find him, I think he'll be able to solve all those problems of yours. I'm afraid I'm not as well informed, haven't really gone out since you lot were carried in, someone's got to keep an eye on each one after all."

"Right. Thank you." Fíli managed a small nod, though a smile would have been too much to ask. He felt he had little to smile about right now. As Bofur left, he sank down on the bed and closed his eyes, trying not to focus on what he felt and what he couldn't feel.

He did not have the luxury of worrying about himself right now.

*

When the noise started, Nori was very tempted to simply turn over and go back to sleep.

They could have slept through the noise, they were sure of that. They weren't just tired but soaked through with the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that couldn't be solved with a mere good night's sleep and a hearty meal. Really, sleeping through any kind of noise should have been easy.

Except this wasn't just noise, it was Ori and Dori fighting.

Nori sat up, blinking blearily in the shadows of the dimly lit room. It wasn't much of an apartment, really, just some random room that Dori had cleaned up for them during their enforced stay in the mountain. No doubt they'd be looking for a proper place to stay once the worst chaos was over, something they could clean up and make their own, with enough space for all three of them to live comfortably. For now, though, the large room with a fireplace and small alcoves for sleeping was quite passable, certainly when compared with the dusty corners and drafty tents plenty of other people were making do with. Nori didn't have quite enough sympathy to feel guilty for being marginally more comfortable, though. They'd been here first, after all, and really they wouldn't have called a few blankets and squished bedrolls the height of luxury in any case.

The problem with all staying in the same room, of course, was that they could not really hide anything from each other. No doubt Ori had thought he could slip in unnoticed, but there was no fooling Dori's ears. She'd bounced up as soon as the poor thing entered, and apparently gone on a rant right away.

"I still can't believe you would do something so irresponsible! Were you thinking at all?"

"How is taking responsibility for something irresponsible?" Well, at least Ori wasn't just buckling under the pressure. Nori supposed that was better than nothing. "How many times are you going to yell at me for the same thing, anyway? You can stop worrying, Lord Dáin took it all on himself, and Fíli's woken up now in any case."

"Aye, and you were immediately at his side again!" Dori set her hands on her hips.

"Because I was asked to! He needed food and someone to tell him what was going on, and I was the best choice for that. What was I supposed to do, not help him when I could?"

"Well, excuse me for worrying!" Dori shook her head. "I think you've more than shown that you can't be trusted to make sensible decisions when it comes to the prince. Next thing I know you'll get yourself into even more trouble for his sake!"

"I'm old enough to make my own choices! This is hardly worse than going off to fight a bloody dragon. Would you have preferred for Fíli to die because his sibling is missing and his uncle won't wake to speak for him? They needed a decision, and I gave them that, and I would bloody well do it again because I'd rather risk my own life than watch a friend bleed out in front of me just because it happens to be royal blood he's spilling!"

"Will you both just keep it down?" Nori grumbled, running a hand over their mess of hair. "Dori, he has a point, we all know he's old enough to declare himself as he wishes, except last Durin's Day we were kind of busy looking for a dragon. And Ori, it's perfectly understandable for Dori to get a wee bit worried when you're basically handing your head over on a silver platter in case Thorin woke up gold-mad again and wanted to have you tried for treason. Just because it turned out all right doesn't mean she wasn't worried sick until then, or won't worry that you'll make more foolish choices for the sake of the prince."

"Foolish or not, at least they'll be my own. All you know is hiding away from any trouble and never facing it!"

They could have gotten mad at that, but really, Ori was just lashing out in his anger. Besides, getting angry would have taken energy Nori didn't have. "It's kept me alive so far, hasn't it? And I'm not saying you shouldn't make your choices as you wish, just that you should also understand if Dori gets mad at you for that because you make her worry."

"Thank you, Nori, that is supremely helpful." And now Dori was getting all icy at them, too? Wasn't this just splendid. "Why don't you tell him to go fling himself off a cliff, since you clearly don't think consequences should weigh in on his consideration at all?"

Nori stood up, now. Clearly they weren't going to get back to sleep any time soon. "I had a husband once, if you'll recall. One who cut off his braids and cast me out when he found out what I'd done for your sake. Tell me again what I don't understand about loss and consequences?"

Dori faltered, just a little, but it was a result nevertheless. "I never asked you to do such things," she hissed then. "I never would have."

"No, but you didn't leave me with much choice, did you? You wouldn't accept anything from my new family, so either I had to steal or watch the two of you starve. And you can say all you want that you didn't know where the money came from, but we both know that's because you didn't ask the questions you didn't want me answering." Nori shook his head. "You didn't ask me to steal for you. Fíli didn't ask Ori to speak for him. I'd say I bore more consequences for my choice than Ori's likely to have for his. Why aren't you telling me to stay away, since clearly the two of you inspire me to be a fool?"

"That is not a fair comparison to make, Nori."

"Why not? Because you are my family and not my friends? Because it benefited you instead of causing you more worry? Because my loss is less important than yours?" Right. So much for not getting angry. "Ori made a choice he had every right to make. It worried you at the time, but now it's been resolved. Nothing bad will come of it, and Fíli himself doesn't seem to bear a grudge. Unless you think the prince's likely to give Ori more reasons to risk his life any time soon, you need to let this go. If you insist that Ori shouldn't associate with Fíli anymore because he's inspiring risky decisions, I'll take that to mean you don't want me to be around you anymore, because the most foolish decisions of my life have all been for your sake."

"I didn't ask you to come on this fool's quest." And again with the not being asked. "And neither did Ori."

"No, you didn't. Balin did, though, and I owed them a debt because they took Ori as an apprentice even though their brother had cast me out. You didn't ask for that, either, because you never ask, you just worry and complain until things go like you want them to and then pretend you're not responsible for anything others do for you." And that certainly wasn't fair of them to say, Dori had worked hard all her adult life to take care of Nori and Ori, but she was being unreasonable and Nori had never claimed to be nice. "Let Ori make his own choices, and let him bear the consequences, good or bad. Or did you plan on choosing how he declares himself, who he should court, how he should ply his trade? Being an adult is all about making choices, and he's almost there, he might as well start. Or at the very least try not to shout in the middle of the bloody night when some of us have to get up early in the morning to make sure certain idiots have not managed to die overnight." Because Dwalin couldn't even let them die in peace, he just had to come and make everything complicated again by getting himself chopped up for their sake.

Dori was quiet for a while, then finally spoke in stiff tones. "You're right, of course. All the years I've spent raising him don't amount to anything when he happens to disagree with me. I should just step back and watch him throw his life away."

"Don't get like that, Dori." Ori sighed. "I am grateful for everything you've done for me, I really am. And I am sorry for worrying you. However, you can't keep controlling my life forever, and I will not apologise for making my own choices. If I were to throw my life away — which I don't think I'm doing, in any case — then, well, it's my life, still, and not yours." He stepped back, though by the look on Dori's face he might have as well slapped her. "Clearly neither of us is going to back down on this, and we all need sleep, so I'm going back. I'm sure Óin can find me some corner to sleep in. Fíli will probably need help again in the morning, you know, considering that he's missing an arm and everything."

"Ori, you don't need to go." Dori reached for him. "If you'd just —"

Instead of listening, though, Ori turned around and walked out. Nori heard his footsteps fade away down the corridor outside.

"See?" Dori turned toward Nori with an anguished look. "What am I going to do with him?"

"Realise that he's not a child anymore, maybe?" Nori shook their head. "As we both said, you can't keep making his decisions for him. And you definitely can't keep trying to guilt him into changing his mind whenever his choices don't please you. You've raised him best as you could, now it's time to see what kind of a dwarf you've made him."

"And what good is any of that if he dies before he's even declared himself?"

"Children can't make you proud if you don't give them the chance to disappoint you, first. You've raised a good young dwarf, sister, one with a sharp mind and a brave heart and a skull as hard as you'd only find in the house of Durin. If the worst he does with all that is get himself entangled with the royal family, well, I hardly have the right to criticise him for it." He paused, then. This seemed as good a chance as any to bring up another issue. "You know, I still think he's more than old enough to hear the truth."

Dori clearly knew precisely what he meant, as she didn't even ask for clarification. "I'll keep that in mind for when I want him to lose all respect for me, and not before."

"You know very well that wouldn't happen." Didn't she? "I just told you, you've raised a good dwarf. He understands more than you give him credit for, and loves you more than you probably believe."

"Or perhaps you are the one giving too much credit to both of us." Dori sighed. "Get some sleep, Nori. You look dead on your feet."

"I was trying to, but then the yelling started." Nori stifled a yawn. "I'll make you a deal. I'll go to bed if you do the same, all right? You know, instead of staying up all night fretting over Ori. He'll be back soon enough, it's not like the two of you have ever fought for long."

"I do hope so." She sighed again, deeper this time. "I'll try and get some sleep, but I can't promise to be very successful."

"I suppose try is the best any of us can hope for now." This time they yawned openly. "Perhaps you should find yourself something to do that's not just fretting over Ori? Or better yet, something to do where you can keep an eye on him. Quite a few of the Company are bedridden, turns out, or too hurt to be of much help. Óin seems to be doing well with the actual healing stuff with Ori and Bilbo and myself helping, but then we have those like Balin whose actual wounds aren't much of a problem, but who would benefit from other kinds of help and company. You could keep yourself busy, and be close to Ori at the same time."

"I'll… think about that." Somehow, Dori managed a smile, though it was rather wan. "Good night, Nori."

"Good night, Dori." For all that they weren't sure it would turn out very good.

Perhaps they'd both get some sleep either way.

*

The tent set up for the negotiations was no grand chamber, but for now, it would have to do.

Ori had almost expected Bard or at least Thranduil to protest at being summoned to appear in a tent within the dwarven camp, but he supposed they understood it was the best they could do. It wasn't the mountain at least, which certainly would have put them on uneven ground, and even now Óin had tried to protest at Fíli making such a long trek, aided or not. There was not a single dwarf who would have seen their injured regent heading outside their established territory, certainly not just a few days after he had first woken up, and the other two rulers must have realised that their choices were to either agree to the meeting place or wait even longer as Fíli recovered further.

Of course, Thranduil barely made it inside the tent flaps as he paused, looking at the three dwarves seated at the table. Fíli was in the middle, as was only right, seated in the most comfortable chair they had managed to find, with Dáin to his left and Ori to his right. Ori might have questioned his own presence, really, it wasn't like he was anyone important, but he supposed Fíli would need some familiarity in this utterly unfamiliar situation. And, well, Ori was the only one remaining of the Company who was not either gravely injured or busy with other duties at the moment.

"I was given to understand these negotiations would be only between those who have a stake here." Even so, Thranduil stepped inside, graceful as ever as he settled into a seat on the opposite side of the table, Bard following him with somewhat less majestic movements. "Or are we so very terrible that you would feel the need for guards in the middle of your own camp?"

"Oh, I'm sure I have no need for such during peaceful negotiations." The smile on Fíli's lips was entirely false, and Ori was sure he wasn't the only one who could see it. "Lord Dáin is here just in case I need some advice on what has happened here since the battle; as it happens, I have not been paying as much attention to my surroundings as I perhaps should have." His smile took on a hint of self-deprecation, playing light with his words to cast aside the terrible meaning.

"Aye." Dáin nodded. "I'm only here to stand witness, not to offer input. Any decisions to be made are those of Prince Fíli."

"And our other friend?" Bard's eyes flitted to Ori, who tried his best not to flush under such scrutiny, focusing on adjusting his papers and ink. Where those had been found, he had no idea, but he was desperately grateful for the little bit of familiarity in the middle of all this strangeness.

"Ori? Oh, he's a scribe, an attendant, a general busybody as he's needed." Fíli waved an arm toward him, the one that was not much more than a stump. "You could say he's my right-hand dwarf for the moment."

Nobody laughed at that, not even Dáin. None of them could, not when Fíli set only one hand on the table, leaving what little was left of his right arm hanging to the side.

"So." Fíli straightened himself, and Ori could almost see him shaking off the last remaining traces of Fíli, a simple smith from Ered Luin. The dwarf that sat at the table was Fíli, son of Dís, Prince Regent of Erebor, not a carefree lad barely come to his full years. "I hope their presence will not be a problem?"

"I have no protest." Thranduil did not speak, but he nodded in agreement to Bard's statement. "All that matters to me is whether you have the right to speak for Erebor."

"That I do." Fíli nodded. "I understand you might prefer to deal with my uncle, but at present we don't know when he will wake, never mind be fit enough for the negotiation table. As such, I hope you can discuss matters with me in his stead."

"No offence, but I will not cry bitter tears over losing the chance to discuss such matters with Thorin." Bard shook his head. "The last time I tried did not exactly end well."

"I am aware of that." Of course he was. They all knew just how well Thorin had dealt with that particular encounter.

"And I hope you are equally aware of what was promised to us." And there was a hint of the steel hiding behind Bard's unassuming exterior showing through. Seeing him now, Ori did not doubt that this man had been the one to take down the dragon.

"Oh, I am aware. However, I'm afraid I will not honour my uncle's promise, either." A complete hush fell over the table. Ori almost felt afraid to breathe until Fíli continued. "I will not honour it, for it was not a promise of a reward, but ransom. We were kept from our own realm by those who had no right to hold us, forced to buy our freedom when it should have been ours from the start. However, that promise was made to Master of Laketown, and as I see him not, I think changes will have to be made in any case." He nodded at Bard, who was tense like a bowstring. "Would you listen, then, to what I offer you instead, Bard the Bowman?"

Bard looked wary, but it wasn't like Ori could blame him for it. Then, however, he relaxed, if only just enough he didn't seem about to pounce over the table at any moment. "I will listen, but I do not promise to agree."

"Very well." Fíli cleared his throat. "For what in the hoard was spoils of Dale, I will give you gold, to rebuild and repair that which was destroyed. Most of the gold may have belonged to dwarves before the dragon, but not all of it did, and whatever we may have been accused of in the past, Durin's folk are not thieves." Fíli's voice remained even and calm, not rushing or demanding, simply laying out his terms. "For the shelter and aid you offered us, I will open our halls to your people when they are deemed safe, and share the food we hope to buy from Iron Hills. It will take you time to rebuild Dale, and what stores you may have had lie in ruins, but the mountain will shelter us all from the winter, and our kin will have plenty to trade to fill hungry mouths." Dáin nodded in silent agreement. "For your hand that slew the dragon, I will give you the strength and skill of dwarves, to help you rebuild as soon as we have the hands to spare from our own work."

There was a moment of silence, long enough that Bard seemed about to speak, before Fíli added his last point.

"For trying to reason with my king when his reason seemed lost, however futile it may have been, I will call you an ally of Durin's folk and Erebor, and acknowledge you as King of Dale not only by your blood but by your heart."

Ori could have sworn Bard was even more taken aback by this than by Fíli's first refusal to honour Thorin's promise. Why, he couldn't imagine. He had rallied the people of Laketown and led them in battle, and had the blood of the old Lord of Dale. Why wouldn't he have been their leader now? It was only natural for Erebor to acknowledge that.

"I fear I am not so noble as you seem to think I am." Bard inclined his head for a moment. "But if those are your terms, I will gratefully accept."

"I am pleased to hear it." Fíli's lips twitched toward a smile, just for a second, before he returned to a more serious look. "I'm given to understand the Arkenstone is still in your possession."

Bard nodded again. "It is. I presume you will want it in return for the treasure?"

Fíli was tempted, Ori could see it. There was a hint of want in his eyes, of the kind of need that sent shivers down Ori's spine for all the wrong reasons. Then, however, Fíli seemed to shake off whatever spell had befallen him, straightening himself. "If you wish to give it to its rightful owner, I suggest you hand it back to Master Baggins. After all, he did claim it as his share of the treasure." Again Ori spied a hint of a smile, one that was infinitely more pleasant to look at than the brief lust for a shiny stone. "What he wishes for in exchange for its return to us, well, I presume he would rather negotiate that matter with Thorin, once my uncle returns to the world of the waking."

"Very well. I have to say, I will be glad to give it back. For him to have given it to us is too large a debt for us to repay."

"He wouldn't have asked you to. He's rather the peculiar creature, our Master Baggins."

"So I am beginning to understand." Something almost like a smile ghosted along Bard's lips for just a moment. "Are we in agreement, then, Prince Fíli?"

"I do believe so. The exact terms can be agreed upon in detail later, I'm sure."

"Those are generous terms to be sure." Thranduil spoke up now, his voice cold and without a hint of emotion. "However, what guarantee is there that the king will honour them once he returns to his senses?"

It was Dáin who replied, now, before Fíli got the chance to do so. "Prince Fíli is the legal regent of Erebor until such a time as Thorin is fit to rule again. I stand here as witness to that. His word is the word of the king, his name is the name of the king." Dáin set a hand on Fíli's shoulder, the uninjured one, though the gesture was heavy enough Ori was sure he saw Fíli turn just a shade paler, still. "Thorin cannot overturn his word, or question an agreement with his name on it, any more than he could go back on his own oaths. If you will not take the word of a dwarf, that I cannot help, but what the Prince Regent agrees to will stand as surely as if the crown and the throne were his already."

"I see." Thranduil sniffed, a delicate little sound that rather reminded Ori of Dori in his more indignant huffs. He clung to that mental image, hoping it would banish some of his fear. "I suppose this is the best we can expect, then."

"King Thranduil." Fíli turned toward the elf, now, any hint of a smile vanishing from his face. "I would like to claim I'm ready to enter negotiations with you as well, but I have to say I find myself somewhat at a disadvantage. How could I meet you on equal terms when you insist on holding a hostage?"

"I have no idea what you mean." Thranduil's expression didn't waver, not even as Bard gave him a sharp gaze. "I would not resort to such underhanded means."

Fíli showed what Ori thought was rather remarkable restraint by not pointing out a certain incident in elven dungeons. Instead, he simply squared his shoulders, the fingers of his remaining hand splayed wide on the table. "My brother has been missing since the battle. As we have inspected the battlefield thoroughly, as well as Dale and the mountain, yet have not found any traces of him dead or alive, we are forced to conclude he must be in the one location we cannot access freely. That is, your camp."

This, at least, gained him a lift of dark eyebrows. "I will concede that Prince Kíli is currently held in my camp, yes. However, rest assured that he is not there as a hostage but as a guest. The reason we have not released him to your care yet is that he is rather too weak to be moved, and indeed my healers wish to tend to his wounds themselves rather than burdening your already taxed resources."

"You'll have to forgive me if I find this somewhat difficult to believe, considering our past interactions." Fíli frowned. "What cause would you have to pay such attention to my brother, and to hold a dwarf in your camp, if not to convince or coerce us to comply with your terms?"

Now it was Thranduil's turn to fall silent for a moment, all eyes on him. When he spoke it was with a soft tone Ori might not have thought possible for someone with such a cold, proud bearing. "I have lost a lot during this battle." Thranduil clasped his hands in front of himself, looking down at them instead of meeting any of their gazes. "Good, proud warriors have lost their lives, far more of them than I care to count. For that, I will not fault you. It was orcs and goblins and trolls who took their lives, and my order that brought them into battle. Those are losses that, while heavy to bear, I had already accepted as I rode to war."

He paused again, and suddenly Ori had a sickening feeling he knew precisely what Thranduil was going to say next. He knew that flicker of emotion that showed in the Elvenking's eyes, just for a moment, had seen it so often in Dori's gaze as she fussed and worried. It was there one second and gone the next, hidden behind a cool exterior, but Ori had seen it and could not forget it again.

"The loss that I could not bear, the risk I never wanted to take, was the death of my son." Thranduil's hands tensed. "He is my only heir, the only family I have left in this world, and I almost lost him. He's no more than a sapling, still, yet there are some who would have cut him down like a hollow shell rotten in its age." Slowly, his hands relaxed, likely with deliberate effort. "Legolas was almost felled by orcish blade that day. He would have been, if a certain dwarf had not taken the blow for him. I do not know what would have possessed your brother to do such a thing for one he might have called an enemy, but I do know I owe him a debt I cannot repay. To heal his wounds is nothing in the face of such a gift."

Fíli paused, his voice soft as he spoke. "That does sound like my brother, yes." He managed a proper smile, now, more genuine than the small hints he had worn earlier. "Perhaps he simply saved your son because he knew the death of the prince would have brought grief to one he claims to love."

Thranduil snorted, a surprisingly undignified sound from the refined elf. "Perhaps. My former Captain certainly seemed keen on reaching his side." This time it was Thranduil who straightened, regaining all his composure. "In any case, you need not fear for your brother. We will heal him and return him to you as good as new. And so that you may not doubt my gratitude," he glanced at Dáin and Bard before settling on Fíli again, "for the actions of Prince Kíli of Erebor in saving my son and heir during the battle… I hereby give up any demand or claim I may have made to any part of the treasure of Erebor."

Ori gasped in shock, and he wasn't the only one startled by this, judging by the way both Bard and Dáin sat up straighter. Fíli, however, met Thranduil's gaze head on. "And will this hold, then? Or shall we expect you to later remember some new claim you might have forgotten for now?"

"If there is a claim I could make, I cast it away here before witnesses." Thranduil didn't waver even at the utter lack of diplomacy Fíli was showing here. It wasn't any worse than Thranduil's own doubts earlier, in any case. "Even the entire dragon hoard would not buy back the life of my son. I would rather have him than any amount of gems or gold."

"Very well." Now, Fíli seemed to relax again. "In that case, I hope you will accept my offer of the starlight gems as a token of alliance rather than the answer to a demand."

If Thranduil was surprised, he hid it well. Dáin certainly showed surprise enough for them all, spluttering in shock before they burst out in laughter. "Oh, no better regent could Thorin ask for!" they announced with open mirth. "Mark my words, boy, your mother will be proud!"

Of course, just because the basic terms had been agreed upon didn't mean it was all done and over with. Now was the part where Ori came in, drafting documents as fast as he could in his neatest Westron print, agreed by all to be the best choice for this purpose. Even if the finer details of things such as exactly how much work dwarves would do in the rebuilding of Dale were left for later, to be settled once they had a better understanding of the situation and their resources, there was still an awful lot to discuss and agree on. In the end they had settled on some simple agreements of alliance and statements of debts repaid, with actual payments as well as the exact terms of alliance left for later. Ori certainly wasn't going to protest. By the time the three rulers gathered to sign the preliminary documents it seemed Fíli needed all his strength simply not to collapse then and there.

Despite trying not to, Ori found himself averting his gaze as Fíli scrawled out a messy approximation of his usual neat signature with his left hand. Ori could not bring himself to face that little bit of reality just yet.

Dáin saw the guests out of the tent after a few more words, leaving Fíli and Ori there. Ori gathered his things in silence, eyeing Fíli worriedly. He looked awfully tired, sweat beading at his forehead. Ori hesitated for a moment before touching his shoulder, as gently as he could.

"Are you all right?" he kept his voice to a murmur, just loud enough that Fíli hopefully heard it over the noise of people rushing about outside. "Do you need me to help you back into the mountain?"

"Not until they've left properly." Fíli didn't need to clarify. Of course he wouldn't want to appear obviously weak until Bard and Thranduil were too far to see.

"Right." He nodded, resisting the urge to chew on his lip. "I, ah. Do you need me to get you anything in the meantime?"

Fíli shook his head no, then seemed to reconsider. "Water, please," he murmured. "And a pain draught, if you could go that far. I think I'll need that to get to the mountain, anyway."

"Will do." Ori stood from his seat. "I'll tell Dáin to get back in here, all right? So you won't need to be on your own."

"Thanks." Fíli gave him a tired nod. "And tell someone I'd like some food when I get back inside? I think I'd better eat something before I fall asleep, and somehow I don't think that's going to take very long once I get into bed."

"Something easy to eat?" What he meant was something Fíli could eat without assistance, which he suspected they both knew. However, if Fíli wanted to pretend he meant something easy on his stomach, well, Ori wasn't going to argue.

"My hero." The nod was this time accompanied by a smile, however wan and pained it might have been. "And, ah, Ori?" As he paused, Fíli sighed. "Thank you. For being here, I mean."

Ori paused, considering his response. He could have pointed out he hadn't done much, aside from the writing that someone else could surely have handled. He could have teased Fíli, called him His Highness and perhaps made him laugh, just a little. Instead, though, he just inclined his head. "I couldn't fight beside you in the last battle. I suppose the least I can do is help you fight this one."

Fíli didn't answer, even as he hurried out of the tent, but then Ori didn't truly expect him to.

*

"Miss Tauriel! Miss Tauriel!"

The voice was familiar enough to make her turn, though Tauriel could not place it at once. She did not need to wonder for long, though, as she spotted young Bain running down the street. She stopped to wait for him, speaking up once he got close enough. "Whatever is the matter?" Had something happened?

"Ah. My father just came back from negotiations." Bain came to a halt and bent over to catch his breath, then looked up at her with a grin. "He said prince Kíli's been found. You were looking for him, right?"

"Truly?" Tauriel's heart skipped a beat. "I — where is he?" And that was a stupid question, wasn't it. Of course he would be in the mountain, the dwarves would not allow for anything else, Kíli would be safely behind stone but perhaps she would be allowed to see him anyway. After all, she had helped with Thorin and Fíli, and had been promised information in exchange, but…

"That's why father sent me to find you." And what was that supposed to mean? "Apparently he's not in the mountain, so you wouldn't find him when you visit there."

"So where is he?" She resisted the urge to reach out and shake the boy. It wasn't his fault that Tauriel was growing terribly impatient.

"In the elven camp, or so they said." That was… what? That didn't make any sense. "Father doesn't know exactly what happened, but apparently Kíli saved an elf prince and got hurt, so they're treating him as a thanks."

"Right." Elf prince. That could only mean Legolas, there was nobody else in Thranduil's forces who might be called that. Had he been hurt? It would explain why he hadn't come looking for her after the battle. "Thank you for letting me know so quickly."

"Anytime." Bain smiled, and perhaps things weren't so terrible if the young ones could smile already. "Oh, and Fíli was leading the negotiations for the dwarves. Father said he looked really tired but handled it all himself, even though Lord Dáin was there. Father thought you'd like to know, since you were treating him."

"Fíli was there? I visited the mountain yesterday and he was awake and sitting up, but I was not sure he would make it out of bed for a while yet." Truly, the hardiness of dwarves would not cease to surprise her any time soon. Or perhaps it was just bloody-minded stubbornness. She would take either, as long as it meant Kíli would not have any more sorrow. "That is good to hear. I suppose I should go to the mountain tonight, after I have found Kíli. I am sure he would appreciate the confirmation." If indeed her word would bear any more weight than that of Thranduil. She hoped it would, considering the hours she had put into treating members of the Company.

"I'm sure he would." Bain nodded. "I hope you find him easily!"

Tauriel murmured her thanks again, then turned her steps toward the elven camp. She had no pressing engagement at the moment, so there was no reason to waste any more time. She needed to see Kíli, or at least confirm that he was alive.

A part of her almost expected to be turned away as she approached the elven camp. There were a few guards near the perimeter, but they did not seem very alert, and the couple who paid her any attention simply nodded at her as she walked by. One smiled as he saw her, a familiar face from the Guard, and she walked closer.

"Captain!" The guard smiled. "It is good to see you well. Nobody seemed very sure how you fared in the battle."

"I made it through, as you can see. And I am not your captain any more." That much was certain, after the way she had turned away from Thranduil. "Do you know where Prince Legolas is?"

"I saw him not long ago near the healing tents. I doubt you will find him in the common tents, though; there is a smaller one set up nearby where he gets treated."

"Treated?" Tauriel frowned. "Was he badly hurt, then?"

"Nothing that would threaten his life, but he will need some time to recover, it seems." The guard shook his head. "I heard a rumour a dwarf took a blow for him and saved his life! Seems rather unbelievable to me, but I also know the prince is not the only patient in the tent, since it is guarded when he is walking about."

"Well, in that case, I hope the guards of the tent will know where I can find him." Tauriel nodded. "Thank you for your help."

"Anytime, Captain." This time, she didn't bother to correct him as she headed in the indicated direction.

The camp was bustling with activity, though not quite as much as Dale or the dwarven camp. Even at such a time her people seemed to refuse to rush, doing their errands at a calm pace. Their numbers had lessened, and Tauriel found herself wondering how many had fallen and how many had simply started their trek back to the forest.

Perhaps it was for the better that she did not know the exact numbers.

It was not hard to find the tent in question. The large healing tents were easy enough to locate, and a smaller tent had been set up nearby, looking very much like the tent Thranduil had for himself. Her suspicions were confirmed as she saw the guard standing at the door. Before she could approach, though, she heard a familiar voice.

"Tauriel!" Turning around, she saw Legolas approaching her. He had an arm in a sling, and wasn't striding towards her quite with his usual vigour, but he was alive and whole and a delight to see. "It is good to see you well! I hoped to find you after the battle, but thanks to my injuries the healers have not let me out of their sight much."

"Can you blame them? I would not like to be the one to tell your father you got hurt worse on my watch." Tauriel shook her head. "I have been helping the men and the dwarves. You'll understand I was not certain of my welcome here after everything that happened."

"And yet here you are now." Legolas stepped close enough to draw her into a loose hug with his healthy arm.

"I am. I heard you had been in danger." She touched the shoulder of his injured arm carefully. "How bad is it?"

"Not very, thankfully. The worst part is my arm, which is broken, and there is a wound on my leg I need to be careful about, but nothing that will not heal." Legolas' lips twitched. "Of course, I'm not certain I am the only one you wish to hear about."

"Is it true, then?" Because he wouldn't say anything if he didn't have any information to share. "Bard sent word that Kíli is here, but I wasn't sure what to believe."

"I do not know what you heard, so I cannot comment on that," Legolas replied. "What I do know is that I would be dead if your dwarf had not gotten between me and an orc and taken the blow for me when I got distracted. As though that had not been humbling enough, Kíli felled the orc before I could, even severely wounded." He shook his head. "I owe my life to that dwarf, Tauriel. I still do not understand your fascination, but I am willing to reconsider my views on dwarves in light of this."

"They are complex creatures, that much is clear." Tauriel hesitated, not sure if she truly wanted an answer to her next question. "Ah. How is he?"

"He will survive, or so the healers tell me. Some scratches and bruises, mostly, the most worrying thing is the stomach wound. But why don't you come and see for yourself?" Legolas gestured toward the tent. "My father seems determined to repay my debt. He has ordered the same healers who attend me to take care of Kíli as their first priority. I suppose he does not want to give Thorin any reason to call him honourless."

"Cannot blame him for that." Tauriel shook her head. "I would like to see him, if I may."

"Then follow me." There was something strange about Legolas' expression. "It is probably better that you see for yourself rather than have me explain it to you."

"That sounds ominous." Nevertheless, it seemed her best chance for answers was to follow his lead and enter the tent.

Despite the crispy air outside, the tent was pleasantly warm. The main part of the tent was divided in two by a large curtain. On one side she saw a neatly made bed that no doubt belonged to Legolas, judging by the familiar weapons set aside nearby. An elf sat in a corner, reading a book, but stood up as he saw them enter. Tauriel vaguely recognised him as Mendir, one of Thranduil's most prized healers.

"My lord, my lady." Mendir stepped closer. "The patient sleeps still. I have just examined her wound and bandaged it again. We have managed to avoid infection so far, and we expect her to wake up properly soon."

"Thank you, Mendir." Legolas nodded. "Would you excuse us for a moment?"

The healer nodded and walked past them outside. Tauriel turned to look at Legolas, her brows drawn into a frown. "Her?" she echoed.

"As I said, you ought to see for yourself." Legolas set his good hand on her back, nudging her toward the other half of the tent, mostly hidden from sight by the curtain. Not knowing what else to do, Tauriel walked closer.

Kíli was awfully still where he was lying on a bed, dark hair scattered about the pillow around his head, face lax in sleep. The sheets only covered him to his waist, leaving his stomach covered in nothing but bandages. The upper part of his chest was covered by the remains of a shirt that must have been his to begin with to fit so well, though it had no doubt been washed at some point, then cut off close above the bandages. It must have been torn in the first place, Tauriel realised with a shiver, if indeed he had been wounded in the stomach.

She was used to seeing Kíli covered in several layers of clothing. The dungeons of Mirkwood had not exactly given the occasion for anything else, and even as she was treating him in Laketown he had been wearing more than one shirt. And perhaps some other layers underneath, Tauriel suspected, looking at him now. Even lying on his back, the lone shirt Kíli wore could not fully conceal the fact that his chest was quite a bit, ah, softer than what she might have expected.

"Perhaps he is still your dwarven prince," Legolas said, his voice low behind her. "He has not woken yet, so we have not been able to ask for clarification. Either way, I suppose the two of you have plenty to talk about when he wakes up."

"Legolas…" She turned toward him, not quite sure what to say.

"Tauriel." Once again she found herself pulled into an one-armed hug. "Everything will turn out all right, just you wait and see. Your dwarf will wake up, and you will speak, and he or she will make you the princess you have always been."

"And as always, you hide words within words," she murmured. "For someone so unafraid to speak his mind, you are terribly difficult to get a straight answer from."

"Oh, but if it were not so, you would soon grow tired with me." Legolas squeezed her one more time before stepping back. "Come, let us go and find something to eat. We can eat here so you can be near your dwarf, and afterwards you might get some rest. Not even you can keep going forever, and I am not certain you have found a moment's rest since the dwarves first escaped."

Tauriel wanted to protest, but found that she could not. Even after everything this was Legolas, her oldest friend and the brother of her heart, and he would have seen through any excuse or lie she might have tried to offer. "Very well," she sighed. "Lead the way."

As she followed Legolas out of the tent, Tauriel realised that for the first time since the battle she felt she could breathe without trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli needs advice, but sadly Thorin isn't able to give him any. Dáin does their best, but they have their own problems as well.
> 
> Meanwhile, Kíli is finally waking up — and proceeds to make Tauriel cry. There are many things she should explain, and also things Bilbo should probably know as well.

"Uncle Thorin?"

There was no response, not that Fíli had truly expected one. After all, he had just been told that Thorin still showed no signs of waking, with no change whatsoever. At least Óin was no more worried for their life as he had been shortly after the battle — well, as shortly after it as Fíli could tell, given that he had slept through a day or two and been rather out of it for another one at the least. Sure, they had told him that Thorin was stable, but he knew enough about diplomacy to know a reassuring lie when he heard one. Now they didn't fear for Thorin's life anymore, but Thorin had yet to wake up, and that wasn't much better. A sleeping monarch was not much different from a dead one, and besides with every day longer that they slept the chances grew higher that they might not be the same when they finally did wake up.

"I figured I'd come and keep you company a little while, now that Óin is done poking at us both for the morning." Fíli walked into the quiet room, taking the seat next to Thorin's seat that was usually occupied by Bilbo whenever he visited. "Ah, Bilbo went to get some breakfast. Apparently they finally managed to convince him that he should actually leave the room for reasons other than sleep. Though I'm pretty sure he's been sleeping right here more often than he'd admit, he says it's all the same when all he has is a few blankets anyway. It's not like anybody's going to chase him away, after Dáin and I have both said he's allowed to be here and Óin doesn't mind his presence either."

Thorin said nothing, of course. They just lay on the bed, as they always did, quiet and still. Their hair had been brushed and gathered into a couple of loose braids to keep it from tangling entirely, and they were clad in only light clothes underneath the blankets. There was a bandage on their head where they had been wounded. Óin was fairly confident that they wouldn't actually lose too much hair for it, though Fíli liked to think even Thorin would consider a chunk of hair a small price for living through the battle.

"It's — I won't lie, it's been pretty rough." Fíli ran a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts. "I'm doing my best with this regent thing, and I think I'm doing okay. Dáin thinks I handled the negotiations well, at least — there's still more about that, we need to agree on the exact details beyond the immediate concerns and other such things, but I'm hoping you'll wake up for that or maybe Balin will get better. Balin still spends most of their time in bed, you see, they get dizzy when they get up, and their memory's playing tricks sometimes."

Fíli paused, glancing at Thorin's unmoving face. "I wish you were here," he sighed then. "Not so you could take over, I'll do this as long as you need the rest, but — I need your advice on so many things. I don't know if I'm doing right by anyone right now, I try to do my best to keep things fair and just and keep everyone motivated and juggle all the things that are shoved at me, but it just seems like a big mess to me. I have no idea how you've been doing this for so long, and with so many more people. It just seems impossible to put any order into this chaos."

He drew a deep breath. Even though Thorin slept on, this wasn't something he could easily admit. "I gave the starlight gems to Thranduil." There, he'd said it. "He gave up all his claims because apparently Kíli saved his son's life — they found Kíli, if you hadn't heard, the elves are healing her and don't want to return her until they are sure she's better, Tauriel came by early this morning and confirmed that she's safe and well — and I still gave him the gems, because I want to show them that dwarves are trustworthy allies, not just something to tolerate. And I promised all kinds of things to the men, and I plan on keeping my promises. They're going to be living in the mountain for a while, it'll give us more hands to work with and keep them safe from the winter, I doubt there's enough proper roofs in all of Dale to cover them. Certainly not safe roofs, and they wouldn't know what to look for in an unstable structure, not after generations of living in those hovels they had in Laketown. And if you wake up now you'd better hold to those promises, because I won't let you turn Bard away again. No matter what you think about the Master, Bard has done no harm to us and we owe him much more than the bare minimum of help for his people."

A silly little part of Fíli almost hoped that hearing this would startle Thorin awake, that his distaste for elves could draw him out of whatever deep slumbers he was lost in. However, he seemed as unmoving as ever, not reacting to Thranduil's name any more than he had to anything else.

"I want you to wake up, and I want Kíli to come back, and I want everything to go back into as much normalcy as we can manage," Fíli murmured. "This is hard and I didn't expect to be doing this for years yet, decades, definitely not all at once without anyone to stand by my side. Balin and mother and Kíli were supposed to be with me when I took the crown, and everyone else, too, but now most people around me are either bedridden or busy doing everything else that needs to be done. Ori's been a great help, he keeps track of everything and writes down things for me and makes sure everything else is in order, and Dáin does their best to advise me but they have their own people to run and they can't stay much longer anyway. And — I can't do even the most basic things myself, Uncle, I can't brush my hair or dress myself properly and even feeding myself is tricky at times. There's always someone to help me, Glóin has been braiding my hair and helping me dress and Ori helps with the little things throughout the day, but there's so much I need to learn to do for myself and so much that I'm not sure I can, and all that scares me. And really, that would be more than enough to make me feel unsure and tired and afraid, I didn't need a whole bloody kingdom and a half thrown in my lap when I have trouble eating soup without spilling it half the time. Which is ridiculous, really, I could wield two swords at once well enough, but it's a whole different thing and I'm still stupidly weak most of the time and — and I'm rambling."

Fíli sighed, trying to run a hand over his hair and pausing as his fingers met the circlet on his head. It wasn't the heavy crown that Thorin had worn in their madness; Fíli wasn't sure he ever wanted to wear the horrid thing, even when he took the throne for real. It was a shiny thing, though, a delicate little circlet of gold and jewels that his friends had insisted he should wear to make sure everyone knew who he was. Because there were so very many golden-haired dwarves missing an arm running around the mountain in Durin blue with a scribe following them half the time, obviously. But he supposed it was good for the morale, as apparently half the things he was supposed to be doing were, so he was just going to grin and bear it so to speak.

"I'd thank you for listening, but really, it's not like I gave you much of a choice here, coming in with you as my captive audience." Fíli managed a rueful smile. "I'm rather hoping Tauriel will stop by soon with more news; she promised to come tell us when Kíli wakes up, or send Prince Legolas in her stead. And really, why are you all sleeping while I'm busy with work? It's unfair, it truly is, in any other situation I doubt Óin would even let me out of bed, but now I'm supposed to be up and about with only the occasional break and pain draught to keep me going. At least Ori won't let me push myself too hard, and he's not above getting Óin to talk to those who would do so. I'm lucky that everyone is looking after me, and it's not like I don't appreciate it, I just…" He sighed again. "I wish you and Kíli were here, or Mum."

Oh, he wanted so badly for his mother to be there, for all that he did not look forward to the inevitable discussion about everything foolish they had managed to do on the road.

The door opened, and Fíli looked up, tense for a moment until he saw the familiar form at the door and forced himself to relax. "Dáin. If you're looking for Thorin, I'm afraid they're still not feeling very chatty."

"Oh, I figured I would have been told if they had woken up. No, it's you I was looking for, actually." Dáin closed the door behind themselves and walked closer, standing near the foot of the bed. Fíli was itching with the urge to stand up to show his respect, but remained seated. If he'd tried, Dáin would no doubt have waved him back down, had in fact already done so once or twice before Fíli learnt better. He was the crown prince and now Prince Regent, Dáin had told him quite firmly, and in Thorin's absence that made him the ruler of Erebor. He did not stand up for anyone in the halls of Erebor, not unless he wanted to make a point, and Dáin was damn well going to have him remember that.

"Ah. Did you need me for something?" Everyone seemed to need him for some thing or another, now. No doubt as soon as he left he would be cornered by Ori or someone else telling him everything he needed to attend to today.

"I was hoping to speak to you for a moment." Dáin scratched at their beard. "The truth is, I need to get back to Iron Hills."

"Right." Fíli nodded. A childish part of him really wanted to ask Dáin to reconsider, but he knew that would be pointless and pathetic all at once. "You do have your own mountain to run, after all."

"Indeed." Dáin paused. "I know some of my soldiers want to stay here," they said then. "Besides the injured and those caring for them, of course. With your permission I'd have the seriously injured ones remain until they have recovered enough for the journey, and will leave the forces needed to treat them, but for anything else, I need your opinion."

"Of course you have my permission." At the second point, Fíli paused. He would have preferred to consult with someone else, but who would be there? Thorin still slept, and Balin would hardly be capable of a long conversation. His only source of advice was Dáin, and Dáin was already here. "As for the rest, we'll need workers and guards, particularly since we plan to house the men of Dale," he said. "And later traders and such. Tell your soldiers that Erebor welcomes any who wish to work here, and we're prepared to pay a fair wage for their labour. Any who live in Erebor are expected to follow our laws and rules, though, and any who wish to settle here for good must swear loyalty to the throne of Erebor."

"A sensible approach." Dáin nodded. "I'll speak with my generals, make sure no troublemakers try to stay behind. I won't give anyone cause to say I tried to cause unrest in Erebor. What about when I get back to Iron Hills, though? There are many there who fled from old Erebor or are descended from those who did. I'd imagine many of them would like to come as well."

"The same rules will apply to them. And it might be good to limit things at first, too, since we need to clear out the mountain before we have the room. Maybe only the families of those of your soldiers who remain here, and crafters who either have no families to bring or who are willing to come on their own for the first year or two? Erebor is no place for little children as it is now, not if there are any alternatives, and by the time we get everything fixed we will probably have the first caravans from Ered Luin arriving, so we don't want to be flooded then, either. Those who come from Thorin's Halls take precedent." After all, they were the ones who had stayed loyal to Thorin even in their worst times.

"I'll pass the word. The guilds should also be able to evaluate how many workers of each craft you are likely to need. I would imagine you'll have more use for stoneworkers and people producing necessities than goldsmiths and miners for the time being."

"Oh, indeed! We've plenty of jewels to go around, and there's a good bit of iron already mined in the stores as well. Blacksmiths would be useful, and I imagine that come summer, woodworkers will have plenty to do in Dale if not in the mountain, but for now we need to have everyone fed and clothed and have a room to point out for their bed." Mahal knew how he would organise all that, but then he was rather hoping he would have others to help him. "We'll also need supplies, of course, and have plenty of gold to pay for it. All the food you can spare, and fabrics and the like. Which reminds me that a few hunters would be useful as well, though I'm not sure how much wildlife we have anywhere near, and if any of your dwarves are good with mushrooms and willing to travel here, they could make a pretty bit of coin by starting up a farm. I'm hoping to negotiate some trade with Mirkwood, and no doubt the men will get farms going as soon as winter is over and fishing even before that, but we need to get as much food production going for ourselves as we can." He remembered well enough the harsher winters in Ered Luin, when even trade brought in precious little and everyone had to tighten their belts.

"Right. I'm sure we have wiggle room in our reserves, more so than usual, since quite a few of our own mouths will move over here." Dáin hesitated, and that was new. Fíli wasn't sure he had ever seen Dáin hesitate about anything. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about, too."

"I'm listening." There were very few subjects that he could imagine making Dáin so hesitant, and none of them were overly pleasant.

"When I lost my leg, I was certain it would be the end of my life." Well. At least they didn't hesitate about going straight to the point. "For a long time I did nothing but wallow in my self-pity, convincing myself there was no way for things to get better. I didn't improve much, and when I did, I dismissed it as not enough."

"I assure you, I have no time for hiding away from everything." No matter how much he might have liked to, sometimes.

"And I didn't mean to suggest you do." Dáin shook their head. "I'm only saying that I understand you've taken a great blow, and it's not all physical, either. Even if you're doing fine now, there will be bad days." They paused again. "That was when I got my first hog. It seemed a bad idea from the start — after all, why should I add yet another complication? But turns out, that hog was what dragged me out of my low spirits. It gave me no choice but to get out of bed every morning, because I had something to care for — and while I know you have plenty of responsibilities, a mountain rarely shows its appreciation for what you do as readily as an animal."

"So, what?" Fíli lifted his eyebrows. "Are you suggesting I get myself a hog, too?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be a hog, you know." Clearly Dáin had been thinking about it for a while, since the little speech they launched into seemed rather meticulously planned. "I've got some hounds back in Iron Hills, very fine ones too. Most of them are hunters, but I've had a few trained as guard dogs, and I think one of them could be a good companion for you. I'd like to gift you one if you'll accept, a trained one so you don't have to worry about the basics. After all, you hardly need another task added to all your others, and training a good hound from scratch is no mean feat."

"I… don't think that would be a great idea right now." Fíli sighed, still not very happy about what he had to admit was true. "At the moment I can't even groom and feed myself on my own, I wouldn't want to try doing that for anything or anyone else. If I got myself an animal, it would wind up being someone else's responsibility, and that would both add to the burden I make to those around me and utterly defeat your proposed purpose."

"Perhaps later, then? The offer remains open. You can send word once you feel better and are more adjusted, perhaps when things aren't so frantic, and I will send the hound over on the next caravan. They're all fine beasts, and I'll pick you the best and brightest of the lot myself."

"I'll, ah. I'll keep that in mind." Though he doubted he would take the offer. It did seem like an awful lot of work that he didn't need on top of everything else. "So, when exactly are you planning on leaving? I suppose we should work out the logistics of it. For example, if some of your healers want to stay, then it makes sense for them to be counted among the healers staying to tend to the wounded, rather than in addition to them."

"Now, that's some wise thinking!" Dáin stepped forward and clapped him on his healthy shoulder, and Fíli could only thank Mahal it wasn't the bad one. His experience on Dáin was still somewhat limited, but he already knew his cousin wasn't known for gentleness. Even now, it might have caused his knees to buckle if he hadn't been seated, with how weak he still was from everything. "Let's go somewhere else to talk about it, hmm? We wouldn't want to bother Thorin, and I rather suspect their hobbit is already outside the door, too hesitant to come in lest he interrupt."

"Right. That would probably be a good idea." Fíli sighed and managed to stand up somehow. "I have to say, if wishes were enough to heal people, Thorin would have been awake a while now, with how much Bilbo seems to want them better. I think I once overheard him yelling at Thorin for not at least having the decency to die properly so he could mourn in peace, or waking up so Bilbo could actually tell him what an idiot he is."

"Well! Sounds like he's precisely who Thorin needs to stand by their side, then." Dáin grinned, and for all that Fíli had never actually met them until the day of the battle, for a moment it almost felt like he were a little lad talking with a favoured uncle. "How about we go find somewhere we can both sit down? I may not exactly be old yet, but even my bones need a break every now and then."

He would miss this when Dáin was gone, Fíli realised, and not only because it would mean his last solid adviser was several days' travel away. Not that those members of the Company who had the time and ability wouldn't help him with everything they could, but even Ori's scribe training and Glóin's knowledge of trade weren't any match for someone who was actually familiar with the twists and turns of ruling.

Oh, he needed someone to wake up and soon.

*

It was quiet in the tent Kíli and Legolas shared.

Of course, this was hardly a surprise. Kíli was the only one there besides Tauriel, with Legolas being out and about as much as he could and Mendir busying himself in the healing tents. If Tauriel was going to sit there anyway, Mendir had reasoned, she might as well fetch him if he was needed, so he could get some actual work done. She wasn't about to complain, of course, so here she was, sitting beside Kíli.

Kíli's things were in the corner of the tent, which she hadn't realised on her first visit, being too preoccupied with Kíli's presence. Now, though, she was passing her time by going through each little bit and piece the elves had found on him, cleaning and fixing what she could. Perhaps she should make him some more arrows, too, ones fit for his bow.

Of course, her little chores came to a stop when Kíli suddenly moved.

For a moment she thought she'd only imagined it. Then, however, Kíli shifted again, and his eyelids fluttered once, twice. A groan escaped his lips, a weak and pained one, but still the sound of a dwarf who was alive.

"Kíli?" She barely even dared approach, too afraid that something would go wrong. Kíli might not be properly awake at all, or might be scared or angry to find himself in a strange tent, or he might —

Or he might open his eyes and look directly at Tauriel, blinking slowly before breaking into a weak but genuine smile. "Hi there," he said with a slightly hoarse voice. "You know, I think I like this better when there are no walnuts involved."

Tauriel chuckled, and if it was a bit watery she was sure he would forgive her. "I will be sure to pass that along." He shifted, and she hurried to set a hand on his shoulder. "No, stay down. You are weak still, and besides you were wounded in the stomach; you should avoid aggravating the wound as best as you can."

"Right." Kíli relaxed under her hand, though he did turn his head properly toward her before letting his eyes sweep their surroundings. "This… where am I?"

"In the elven camp, as it happens." Tauriel couldn't help but brush her fingertips against the stubble-rough cheek. "Apparently not even Thranduil will try to deny owing a debt when you decide to go and save the life of his only son."

"So he survived, then? That's good to hear." And Kíli was still smiling, he was still smiling as though they were discussing the weather and not how he had very nearly gotten himself killed. "Wasn't quite sure about that. Last thing I remember he was still in a spot of trouble."

"Legolas is injured, but will indeed survive. He says that without you he would not be as fortunate." She shook her head. "I am not even sure if I should thank you for saving the life of my friend or scold you for trying to do so at your own expense."

"Hey, in my defence, I wasn't actually trying to get slashed open. I just knew that if I didn't do anything, your sour friend would be cut in two like a dry twig. Except, you know. Messier."

"You seem to be much less poetic in your choice of words when you are not addled by poison." And oh, she shouldn't have teased him so, but how could she resist when he was still here and alive for her to tease?

"It's a common flaw in us dwarves, you may find. The only dwarf I know of who speaks pretty words on the regular and doesn't have to think about it is my cousin Gimli, and he was dropped on his head as a babe. Anyone else needs ale or some other encouragement, or else thinks about their words for ages before speaking."

"Or perhaps that is just you, my dwarf. It seems unlikely none of your race would speak beautiful words without planning them in advance." And she still couldn't stop stroking his stubble.

"Well, not in Westron, at least. And I'm not sure you'd find Khuzdul so beautiful to hear, no matter the words. I've been told other races tend to find it rather grating on the ears."

"I would not say so. If the word you said to me is indeed Khuzdul, then it is beautiful indeed." Tauriel smiled. "Amrâlimê, was it not?"

"You remembered." Kíli grinned, such a bright, beautiful grin it very nearly blinded her. "And yes, that's it. Amrâlimê." It sounded rather different on Kíli's lips, rougher around the edges, but still so very beautiful.

"And are you still not going to tell me what it means?"

"Oh, but if I told you, you would have no reason to come back to me." Kíli was still grinning, but Tauriel could have sworn it faltered for a second. She supposed it was because of the subject, but that also reminded her of another thing she had sorely neglected.

"Oh! You must be in quite some pain." The elven healers were skilled, yet, and could indeed work miracles from time to time, but not even they could truly take away the ache of a wounded body. "Let me call a healer to see to you, and perhaps find some soup or similar for you to eat once they are done? You must be famished, having slept so long."

"I'm fine." And yet there was a definite tension around Kíli's eyes she had missed before but couldn't ignore now even if she tried.

"You are not, and I would appreciate it if you did not try to deceive me." After a moment's hesitation, she leaned in to press a soft kiss to Kíli's forehead. "Do not worry, my dwarf. I promise you I will be back, and not simply for the sake of your secret word."

Kíli still didn't look too pleased, but he nodded, so Tauriel hurried out. It didn't take her long to locate Mendir, who was working in the healing tents but took one look at her face and quickly collected his things. "She is awake, then?"

"Right." And oh, she would have to ask Kíli about that, but not until after his pain had been treated. "I think a pain draught is needed, and perhaps something to eat?"

"I will bring a remedy for the pain, and for food you should see the main healer here. Do remember to feed yourself as well, we do not need anyone collapsing out of avoidable weakness."

It was a reasonable reminder, she figured, and after speaking with the other healers she was indeed provided with two portions of warm broth, though the bowl for Kíli was mostly liquid. It wouldn't do to task Kíli's stomach too much; the last thing they needed was for him to throw up with his stomach still only stitched together.

When she returned Mendir was examining a surprisingly calm Kíli, who didn't protest at being poked at by a strange elf, though his expression brightened when he saw Tauriel. "There you are!" The dwarf grinned. "Was wondering if you'd entirely forgotten about me."

"Surely I was not away for quite so long." She set the bowls down on the small table next to Kíli's bed. "I hope you haven't given Mendir any trouble."

"Well, you said you'd get a healer, so I figured he was probably sent by you. And, well, someone's clearly been seeing to me while I slept, so putting up a fight now seems silly."

"I have been responsible for most of your care, yes." Mendir nodded, apparently finished with his examinations for now. "It seems to me you are recovering as expected, but you still need rest." He dug out a small bottle from his bag of supplies. "Eat what you can, but slowly, and drink this. It will probably make you tired, but you need the rest, so try not to fight it. Also, do not try to get out of bed, or sit any more than necessary, and even then only with support. You may be recovering, but we hardly need to see your wounds reopened by unnecessary strain."

"I'm sure Tauriel here can keep an eye on me so that I don't overdo things." Kíli's smile faded a bit as she then added, "Unless she has somewhere else to be, of course."

"I am not needed anywhere else, I promise." She wanted very much to get closer to Kíli to assure him of the fact, but stood aside while Mendir finished adjusting Kíli's various bandages, not wanting to get in the way.

"Find me if anything changes." Mendir seemed to address this more to Tauriel than Kíli, which made sense, given that she was the one not bedridden at the moment, nor was she as held back by stubborn pride. "Otherwise, I will be back by evening to check on things. Until then, Princess." He nodded at them both, then left. He never had been one for needless chatter.

"Princess?" Kíli frowned. "I'm fairly sure he didn't mean you."

"Ah. I believe he was referring to you, actually." Well. She supposed this was as good a time as any. "It is just… while treating you, the healers realised you appear to have, ah, a female body."

"You mean, that I'm a bearer?"

"I suppose you might call it that, yes." Tauriel nodded. "That… is that correct? I only ask because I have only heard your companions or yourself refer to you by words that I would understand as male, as he and son and brother and prince. The healers, not having any such familiarity, have taken to female words, not knowing anything else. Is that wrong?" She found herself being rather more tense than the question perhaps warranted. Though then, it did carry certain other implications.

"Well, neither is wrong, really. The words you heard were used because we are outside a mountain. Most dwarves use the male words when we are out among other races. It's a matter of convenience, and safety, too. Some people can be quite difficult about that sort of thing."

"Right." That, she supposed she could understand. It was certainly true that races had different attitudes about gender, and such a custom would explain why female dwarves were thought to be so scarce. "So… which one are you, then? I would not want to call you by the wrong terms. Ah, if it's not rude to ask that." It only occurred to her just then that it might be, particularly when dwarves were so secretive about the matter.

"Not rude, no, it's just that I can't give you much of an answer." Kíli shook her head a little. "I do go by she when I'm in the mountain, but I haven't actually declared myself yet."

"Declared?" Tauriel blinked. "What do you mean by that?"

"It's part of growing up, for dwarves, becoming an adult and all that. I'm technically old enough to be considered an adult, but by the time I was supposed to declare myself, Thorin was already thinking about the trip to Erebor, so I decided to wait until we got here instead. So, while I know how I plan to declare myself, for the time being I'm still technically nothing in particular."

"I apologise, but I feel like I am missing something here. I asked if you would prefer to be addressed as male or female, not whether you are considered an adult." Though she supposed that was good to know, either way.

"It all ties back together, though." Kíli chuckled. "I suppose it would be confusing, if you don't know the dwarven ways. It's just, by dwarven customs I'm not considered to have a gender until I have declared what it would be. So, while I may be called she, I am still child and sibling and heir, instead of any gendered terms."

"Excuse me?" Surely she had not understood right. "You… do you mean you choose your gender?"

"More or less." Kíli gave a small shrug, or as much of one as he — no, she — could manage while lying down, anyway. "I mean, for most of us it's not really a choice. We might try out different things, but one thing usually feels more natural than others. Some might feel it a choice, and I know a few even change their mind in their adult years, but in general by the time you're old enough to declare yourself, you already know what you are."

"Ah, that is not what I meant." Though that did feel kind of overwhelming. "Just — when you declare yourself, does that mean you tell everyone what gender you are? And they take you at your word?"

"Well, of course. How else are they supposed to know? You also declare your profession, well, at least whether you're a warrior or a crafter or a scribe. Now, since you asked, I will be female. I did think for a while when I was younger that I might be neither like Thorin, but I'm confident now that I was wrong. I've been she for the last couple of decades already. And —" Kíli stopped, frowning. "Tauriel? Why are you crying?"

She tried to answer, really she did, but she couldn't get the words out, tears streaming down her face instead. It was just — Kíli spoke of it so easily, and yet —

She hid her face in her hands, but even without looking she could tell that Kíli was reaching for her.

*

Kíli was, despite herself, starting to feel slightly panicked.

She didn't deal well with tears in general. It always made her feel uncomfortable to see someone crying, which was why she often tried to lighten the mood with her jokes when it seemed someone was feeling down. This was, she now discovered, even more true of Tauriel crying. Tauriel shouldn't cry, not ever, and certainly not over something Kíli had said.

"Tauriel?" She hated to be so helpless, so weak and pained, unable to do much more than reach for Tauriel and hope she would notice. Every last part of Kíli was yearning to get up, to draw Tauriel into her arms and hold her until she felt better, but even trying to shift up just slightly made her groan in pain. "Tauriel, please, don't cry. I'm not sure what I said, but I'm sorry, I really am, please don't…"

"Tauriel?" The word drew Kíli's attention toward the side of the tent that appeared to hold the entrance, with a part of the tent hidden from her behind a partition. The blond elf prince was standing there, an arm in a sling but otherwise apparently in one piece. Legolas, that was his name, Kíli recalled hearing it before. "What happened?"

"I really don't know, I swear," Kíli replied, as Tauriel seemed to still be too sad about something to actually speak. "We were talking, and all of a sudden she just started crying, and I don't know what I said —"

"I — I am sorry." Tauriel was wiping at her eyes, now, though she still shuddered with silent sobs. Her efforts at cleaning her face seemed less than successful, the tears still falling from her eyes, but it was still much better than her sudden weeping. "It is just — I will be fine."

"Right." The elf prince didn't look like he believed her, but nodded nevertheless. Glancing toward Kíli, he seemed to take in the situation, complete with the bowls of broth still set to the side. "How about you help me get our dwarf friend propped up, so he can eat without trouble, and after that you can go and lie down for a bit in my bed? And no, do not try to tell me you need no rest. Since the battle you have only slept the one time I made you, of that I have no doubt, and I know your sleep was restless then."

"I will not claim otherwise, but truly, I do not need so much rest." Tauriel shook her head.

"Even so, you can at least eat and gather your thoughts. I will watch our guest in the meantime." The prince offered her a faint smile. "After all, I owe him quite the debt."

This seemed more agreeable, as Tauriel nodded hesitantly, then did most of the work of arranging a few pillows that Legolas fetched from somewhere behind Kíli's back so she could very nearly sit up without putting too much strain on her stomach. Kíli would have wondered at the number of really quite comfortable pillows in the middle of what was essentially a battlefield, but really, she probably shouldn't have been surprised that Thranduil would bring along such things when marching to war.

Even the softest pillows weren't much comfort, however, as Tauriel finally leaned down to kiss her forehead, heedless of the ever scrutinising gaze of her prince, before picking up one of the bowls and walking away. There had still been tears on her face, Kíli was certain of it, and yet Kíli could do nothing to comfort her.

"You should eat before it gets cold." Legolas handed her the bowl with his good hand, his expression surprisingly neutral as he took the seat Tauriel had vacated. "You have given everyone quite enough worry, try not to add to it."

"I was kind of busy with other things, as it happens." Nevertheless, Kíli took the bowl and the spoon offered to her, though soon she resorted to simply drinking from the bowl. It was mostly liquid anyway, though pleasantly warm and spicy, and if she couldn't forgo table manners when she wasn't well enough to sit at a table, well, then there was no justice in the world at all. If her horrid manners bothered the elf, nobody was forcing him to sit there and watch.

Legolas did exactly that, though, sitting beside her bed, more or less patiently waiting until she was done with her broth. As she set the bowl aside, he handed her the pain draught the healer had left, his eyes searching her face as though for answers.

"I really don't know why she started crying," Kíli said after forcing down the medicine. It wasn't as bitter as some of Óin's concoctions, but she would have hardly called it tasty. "I was only answering her questions, that's all."

"And what were those questions about, exactly?"

"Ah." This wasn't something she was strictly speaking supposed to talk about, but it wasn't forbidden, either, so he figured it would be fine. "She asked me what gender I am."

"And what did you answer?" Legolas paused, then added in a rather surprising show of tact, "If that is something you wish to share, of course."

"Eh. It's not a secret as such, for all that we rarely talk about these things with those who aren't dwarves." Kíli managed a small shrug. "I told her my body is that of a bearer, and though I haven't declared myself yet, so before dwarven law I have no gender, I already know I will declare myself to be female."

"I see." Legolas nodded slowly, his expression hard to read. "Well. I can certainly see why that would make her cry."

"Why so, then?" Kíli frowned, before her eyes widened with a horrible realisation. "Oh, Mahal's balls. Please don't tell me your people only love the opposite gender." Though she hadn't travelled much before the Quest, she had heard enough stories to know other races often had very strange views about who it was appropriate to love, or were even unable to love people who weren't of a specific gender or sex.

"It is nothing like that, I assure you. Though she might like to tell you more herself." Legolas turned to look over to the partition, and indeed Tauriel stepped into sight just then, looking much calmer this time. Blast those elf ears.

"It is no fault of yours, my dwarf, I assure you. I truly am sorry if I made you think you did anything wrong." Tauriel shook her head, and Kíli might have been mesmerised by the movement of her hair if she hadn't seen the still rather unhappy look on Tauriel's face. "It is just… it saddens me that my people do not take such a simple approach to the matter."

"We elves may be very wise in many things," Kíli barely resisted a snort at Legolas' words, "but in this, we are not always so enlightened. Tauriel has had to struggle most of her life just to have others refer to her as female, even with my word on her side."

"What?" That sounded bizarre. "But… why? Because you fight? That's just stupid."

"Not quite, no, though many have also said I am not lady-like enough for a she-elf." Tauriel came closer, and now she was wearing a faint smile, though Kíli rather suspected her heart wasn't truly in it. "It's… well. As it happens, my body does not match my mind, not in the way that my people expect. Among elves, most will tell you that those who bear children are female, and those who sire them are male, and that is the end of it."

"Really?" Once Kíli got over the first shock of that, she started to put things together, reading the implied message behind Tauriel's words. Without really meaning to, she let her gaze drop to Tauriel's bosom. Perhaps it wasn't very full, but it was definitely rounder than that of Legolas next to her, not that Kíli was going to say it aloud.

She didn't need to, it appeared, as Tauriel's cheeks reddened and Legolas chuckled before turning more serious. "She wears a bustier made especially for her, along with her armour," he said. "Before that, we would often have people forgetting how they ought to address her. Well. They claimed to forget."

"Oh, you simply must speak with Dori! Once we have more supplies at hand, in any case." And, yes, she probably sounded rather too flippant, but as already established, she hated to see Tauriel unhappy. She couldn't even imagine someone trying to tell what she was or was not, and if she hadn't been so hurt she might have been tempted to immediately head out to hunt for whoever had been so cruel to her Tauriel. Which was a ridiculous notion, of course, so all she could do was try to turn the discussion to more pleasant directions. "She made the best padded vests in Ered Luin, and her binding vests are very good as well. I wore one of hers for the journey, Fíli's old one but still serviceable enough. Our mother swears by Dori's work, and she has the prettiest pair of breasts you'll ever see. I'm sure Dori can make you a nice set as well if we ask. Ah, not to say yours aren't pretty right now," she added, belatedly realising that her words might sound like criticism. "It's just, I doubt whoever made yours was an expert in the matter, if it's so rare among elves, while Dori has made more padded vests than she can probably count."

This seemed to shock Tauriel, while Legolas actually laughed, now. "Well! It seems you've found yourself a very fine dwarf indeed, my friend." He smiled at Tauriel, and the glance he gave to Kíli was very nearly friendly as well. "If you are feeling better, I will make myself scarce for the time being. I have been up most of the day, and I would hate to draw Mendir's wrath by not resting my leg at all. You two have more things to discuss, I suspect, though perhaps not much time right now. If I know Mendir at all, he is not above choosing his pain remedies on their chances of keeping his patients in bed until he decides they have rested."

"Except he will not bother with you, because he knows you would rather endure the pain than be sensible." Tauriel waited for Legolas to stand before taking the seat he had just vacated. "Ah. Thank you." She did not specify what she was thanking him for, but then, she hardly needed to.

"Any time. I do hope to have the chance to speak with — Princess Kíli, wasn't it?" As Kíli nodded, he continued, "However, I can wait, and I highly doubt the healers will be truly releasing either of us from their clutches just yet. Therefore, I will not be so unkind as to steal her away now when she will no doubt be drifting off soon."

"I'm not sure I'd be easily stolen anywhere," Kíli pointed out. "And since you're wounded, I'm betting Tauriel would win if you were to start a fight over who gets to sit with me. And, well, I certainly know which one I'd rather speak with."

"Indeed." Legolas' lips twitched into something very close to a smirk. "I would tell you not to do anything I would not do, but as Tauriel knows me through and through, I fear that would leave very little out of bounds. Therefore, I will only ask you to remember that I will be resting on the other side of the curtain, and to please not cause too much of a disturbance."

Kíli very nearly started to protest — she wasn't entirely without manners or self-control, thank you, whatever some people might have said — but then she recognised the look on Legolas' face. It was almost entirely hidden, because Mahal forbid elves ever be clear about anything, but the spark in his eyes was familiar enough, as was the minute scowl on Tauriel's lovely face in response.

Legolas was teasing them. Which, well, it shouldn't have been such a surprise when she knew he and Tauriel were friends, but somehow she hadn't thought the elf prince was capable of even a smile, never mind such jokes.

"Well. Someone isn't nearly as sour as before."

"This is closer to the true Legolas, actually." Tauriel smiled properly, now, though Kíli could still see some hints that she had been crying earlier. "He has been under quite a lot of pressure lately, and the ravaging of the forest hasn't helped. This Legolas is the one I know as my friend. The Legolas you have met… well. He hasn't been showing his best side, if I might say so."

"I think I'll have to take your word for that." As predicted, she was starting to grow drowsy. "Ah. Could you help me again? I can't really lie down with all these pillows."

Tauriel was instantly there, lowering her little by little into a more comfortable position. Then she sat by the side of Kíli's bed, holding one of Kíli's hands in hers. "You do not mind, then?" she asked, sounding almost hesitant. "That I am not what you might expect?"

Kíli fought down a yawn. "Tauriel, I am a dwarf. My mother puts on her breasts every morning, just as my brother binds his," she pointed out. "Believe me, I never thought there were any expectations I might have one way or another just because you call yourself a she-elf. Rather, I might worry you feel deceived, since you were introduced to a prince, so I am likely not what you expected in body or mind."

"You did not do it to deceive me, though, did you? It is simply the custom of your people. And from what I understood, it is only your words that you changed, and those will change either way when you do declare yourself a full adult. For me to expect your body to be one way or another would be quite hypocritical indeed." Tauriel shook her head. "No, I am not upset with you, my dwarf. Surprised, perhaps, but then there is still very little we know of each other, either way."

"Indeed." She managed a sleepy smile. "How about we try to learn some more, then?"

Tauriel smiled and nodded, still holding onto Kíli's hand as they spoke quietly of lighter matters that would hopefully not make anyone cry just yet.

Kíli wasn't sure when she drifted off, but she knew it was with Tauriel's voice in her ears.

*

Bilbo was feeling numb.

He supposed it could have been worse. He could have been worried out of his mind, for instance, especially given the fact that Thorin had not woken up yet despite all their best efforts. Óin kept telling him it was only a matter of time, that Thorin only needed the time to heal, but surely even he was starting to doubt as the days passed by without much change. And here was Bilbo, all but useless as everyone else was keeping themselves busy with various chores, doing little else but keeping company to an unconscious king. He tried to help where he could with clothing repairs and such, since he was sitting there anyway, and his friends did keep telling him that just keeping an eye on the king for any changes was very valuable help indeed, yet Bilbo couldn't help but quietly wish he could have done more, somehow.

Of course, he wasn't doing even that much right now, since Óin had chased him out of the room while he tended Thorin's wounds. This left Bilbo somewhat bereft, wandering about the nearby corridors. He supposed he could have gone outside for some fresh air, perhaps tried to see if he could find something to eat, but somehow he felt anxious about wandering too far. Not that he would have gotten lost, the dwarves would have showed him the way back no matter where he ended up, but it didn't feel right leaving Thorin too far behind.

He had secured himself some food as Bombur came bustling by, some really rather delicious stew considering that they didn't have much to work with. Bombur didn't stay to chat, not that he was very talkative anyway, preferring to hurry along to take food to the rest of the Company spending their time around those injured. Of those wounded, Balin was the only one who was awake and yet spent his time mostly in bed, with the rest either still sleeping or out and about. Not that Fíli was actually in any condition to be rushing about yet, but it didn't seem he had a choice, being so much in demand. At least Ori seemed to be keeping some track of his comings and goings, trying to find him moments of rest where they could be found. Bilbo should drop by at some point, see how the poor lad was doing and if there was anything Bilbo could help with.

He could hardly feel any more useless even if he was told no.

Padding along the corridor while he ate his stew — and his mother would have had his ears for such a thing, a meal means sitting down young hobbit, it's bad enough you don't have much in the way of tables — Bilbo noticed a door ajar not far from where Thorin was sleeping. Dwalin's room, if he wasn't entirely wrong. Bilbo had peeked in on him once, when he had first dared to enter the mountain again, which thankfully had been well after all the dreadful business with blood and bandages and missing limbs. From the descriptions he had heard, and from how horrific it was to see important body parts belonging to his friends just ending abruptly in a bandaged stump, the particulars of such things were something he could very well live without, thank you very much.

Now, though, the door was ajar, and he was fairly sure Óin would glare at him if he went back so soon. So, after a moment's hesitation, he pushed the door open with the hand that was not currently holding his precious food.

The reason for the door not being closed was immediately apparent. Nori was sitting next to Dwalin's bed, eating what appeared to be some of the same stew Bilbo was still holding. Apparently Bombur had come by here as well, and not closed the door properly.

Nori looked up at the sound of the door, a wary look in his eyes that soon softened as he recognised Bilbo. "Master Burglar. Something the matter?"

Bilbo made a face at what was clearly a teasing form of address. He knew just enough about Nori's reputation to understand that the dwarf probably thought it highly amusing that anyone would call Bilbo the burglar of their group. "Just Bilbo, please, I'm sure I've told you this before." He knew for a fact that he had, Nori just enjoyed teasing people sometimes. "And no, nothing is wrong. I was just looking for somewhere to sit and eat, if that's not too much trouble."

"Plenty of room here." Nori nodded at the rest of the room, which was indeed more or less empty. Bilbo slipped into the room proper, glancing around until he spotted a stone bench along one of the walls. Sitting around, he started to eat in earnest. It was really much easier to enjoy a meal when he didn't have to worry about spilling his food.

He was more or less done as it finally occurred to him it might be polite to try to make some conversation. Nori was still eating, working through his stew at a rather more sedate pace, but then Bilbo knew quite well that dwarves didn't think much about talking through mealtimes. "Ah. How is Dwalin, then?"

"Lucky to still have any leg left at all." Nori gave a small shrug, continuing to eat. "Nasty things, orc blades. Without Óin and the elf working together he'd probably be rotting away already."

"Right. That's… that's good?" He trusted Nori would understand he meant it was good that Dwalin wasn't worse off, not that he had been hurt in the first place.

"I suppose." Nori made a face. "Still don't understand why he'd be so stupid as to get hurt in the first place. Mahal knows he hasn't been too concerned with shielding me from pain before."

That… didn't seem like something Bilbo should comment on too much. However, it seemed too awkward to simply fall into silence so soon. "Ah. Thorin's healing well, too. Well, he's still not healing, but his wounds are doing well, and Óin doesn't frown nearly as much now as he did at first. I'm still somewhat worried, of course, but I suppose I'll just have to trust he's too stubborn to be defeated so easily."

"They."

Bilbo blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Not he, they." Nori shook his head, eyes flicking toward Bilbo only briefly before he looked down at his food once again. "We dwarves have three genders, rather than two. Thorin identifies with the one that is neither male nor female, so the polite thing to do is to use they to refer to them."

Bilbo frowned. "I've never heard of such a thing." Surely he would have heard of it before this?

"Of course not. When we aren't in a mountain, we will all use the male words, for the sake of safety. Much less trouble that way, and no cause to explain anything. We have the mountain back now, though, and if you are to stay with us for any length, you might as well learn the proper words."

"Right. They." That was… well. He could learn to remember that, Bilbo was sure. "Wait. Does that mean there might be others in the Company who aren't male?"

"Of course there are." Well, it sure wasn't obvious to Bilbo! And yet, Nori was just lifting his eyebrows as though amused at poor Bilbo's confusion. "I am neither as well, and Dori is female, if you were wondering. Dwalin is male though, and so is Ori, or he will be once he's a legal adult." Nori shook his head. Or was that their head, then? "I won't list them all for you, not my place to do so. You can just ask everyone yourself, though."

"So, what? You dwarves all ask that when you meet someone for the first time?"

"Nah, that'd be too tricky. We have special braids for that, like this." Nori touched a braid in their hair that Bilbo wasn't sure had been there on the quest. "Many of us don't even wear them on the road, since we're all supposed to be male then. In the mountain, though, every adult dwarf will have their adult's braid. Three strands means male, five means female, four means neither. It's simple as that."

"Yes, well, how am I to know what is an adult's braid and what's just for decoration?" Goodness knew one braid looked just the same to him as any other.

"Well, if you don't know, you can ask. Nobody's going to be offended, particularly since you're not a dwarf. And if you're not certain, just use the neutral words, they and dwarf and sibling and such. Nobody's going to be offended by those, even if they may correct you."

"Right. I'll try to remember that." Bilbo nodded, but then frowned again. "Wait. Dwarf is the neutral term? I mean, of course it is, but does that mean there's gendered words for that too?"

"Sure there are. The lasses are dwarrowdams, and the lads are dwarrows. A dwarf can be either or neither, it's why that's the word we tell everyone else to use."

Bilbo rubbed at his temple. "Now why doesn't it surprise me you dwarves would make even this complicated?"

"I don't see what's complicated about it at all." Nori was smirking, now, and while Bilbo wasn't too happy about being teased, it was definitely better than the awkwardness from before.

When he returned to Thorin not too long after, he had plenty to think about.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dori is trying to find something to occupy herself with, keeping company for Balin among other things. Of course, such pursuits are quickly forgotten when Ori finds himself an even greater responsibility than that of the crown prince's life. Fíli, for his own part, has to handle things without Ori's help for a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of the names in this chapter, "sana" is Finnish for "a word", while "omena" means "an apple".
> 
> **Please note** that this chapter features the death of a minor character, a child being orphaned and subsequently adopted, and discussion of these themes. Please read accordingly.

"And how are we today?"

Balin looked up from whatever document they had been perusing, offering Dori a small smile. "Better than yesterday, but that's not saying much. Better for seeing you, that's for sure."

"Oh, hush." Dori managed an actual smile in response, carrying over the tray of food with meals for them both. "Oh, good, you're sitting up already. That will help with the eating. And afterwards, I'll need you to lie back down. You know you shouldn't be pushing yourself."

"I'm hardly being unreasonable," Balin grumbled, though they both knew they hardly meant it. "But, very well. Until then, what do you have to offer?"

"Some fish soup, actually. It seems the men know some tricks to fishing under ice, and while we don't dare go down to the lake yet — who knows what dragon blood will have done to the fish — they've had some good catches from the river. Enough to stretch things a little bit further, at least, until the first proper caravans from Iron Hills arrive."

"Oh, that sounds excellent indeed." Balin set their papers aside, nodding in thanks as Dori handed then one of the bowls on the tray along with a spoon. "We can expect the caravans soon, then?"

"Aye, that's what I hear." Dori sat down in the chair next to Balin's bed, taking her own bowl and sipping at it. The soup was still warm and pleasantly spicy. Apparently Bombur had made the exciting discovery of some old spices in the ancient kitchen areas, and while most had gone stale and flavourless, a couple had still been usable, protected from time in their tightly-shut jars. "Dáin has made it back to Iron Hills, and apparently they'd sent out word ahead, because their first message back to Fíli mentioned we can expect the first caravan of people and goods within a week."

Balin nodded thoughtfully. "That definitely means they were prepared," they said. "It takes almost that long to get here from Iron Hills, particularly on a caravan. No doubt Dáin had their son arrange the caravan in advance."

"Indeed. We can't complain, though, not when it means more workers and supplies." Dori shook her head. "It's certainly different, hearing about this sort of thing as soon as the word reaches the mountain. I'm just so used to getting all my information from gossip and rumours."

"I suggest you get used to it, though." Balin gave a small chuckle. "Every time Fíli finds the time to visit me, he makes sure to mention how much Ori is helping him and how he probably couldn't handle everything without Ori's help. I'm not sure Fíli's going to let go of him even when Thorin gets better."

"So I'm starting to realise." Dori sighed. "He's making me feel quite useless, Ori is. When he's not working with Fíli, he's around the healing tents, and he's already speaking of taking notes on all the new arrivals once the caravan gets here. I do try to help here and there, but I'm exhausted just listening to him talk of it all, and I wish —" She halted, not sure how to word her next point in a way that wouldn't offend Balin.

"Yes?" Balin looked at her over their bowl of soup, idly curious. "What do you wish?"

"I wish he wasn't so keen to get himself involved in such serious things." Dori looked down at her food, not quite ready to face whatever expression Balin might wear in response to her words. "On one hand, I know it's probably inevitable. He's your student, for one thing, and has grown to know Fíli and Kíli on the road, and — and there's always been Nori." Nori, who even now sat with Dwalin and didn't know what their life was going to be like once Dwalin was better. "And I know this is better for him, it's definitely better than any life he might have had in Ered Luin, but I… I see him tying his fate to kings and princes, sitting at negotiation tables where kingdoms make trade, and a part of me wishes he could just be a quiet little scribe nobody takes any particular note of."

"It's an understandable worry." Balin certainly sounded sympathetic enough. "You're right, it was probably inevitable, certainly ever since you signed up for the quest, if not since the day Nori asked me to take him on as an apprentice. But even though for me that's just what I have lived my entire life with, I know it's not as natural for everyone." There was another sigh, deeper this time. "I wish I could tell you not to worry, that it's no different from making his living drafting marriage contracts and work agreements for the common folk, but we both know that would be a lie. A royal scribe is not just a scribe, they are a confidant and an adviser and legal counsel all in the same, and that's no easy burden to bear, if I say so myself."

"Right." Dori paused for a moment. "Do you think he can handle it?"

"Ori? I'm certain of it." Now as she glanced up, she found Balin smiling. "He's got a good head on his shoulders and he's been raised to be sensible. I can't think of anyone I would rather have aiding Fíli in my stead, and I'm not only saying this because I was the one to teach him."

"Thank you." Dori managed a small smile. "That does help me settle my nerves, somewhat."

"Anytime." Balin nodded sagely. "Now, shall we eat? And after that you can maybe fill me in on everything else that's happening outside my walls."

That was a favour Dori could easily promise. They both ate their soup in relative silence, after which Dori started telling Balin about everything that had been going on lately. She was sure they had heard most of it before — she had told them some points herself, in fact — but between Balin's problems with their memory and being stuck in one room, she figured a little repetition couldn't hurt.

"So Dwalin still hasn't woken up?" Balin frowned. "Nor Thorin? That isn't good."

"No, it's not." Dori sighed. "Nori and Bilbo sit with them most of the day, every day, but so far there has been no change. Dwalin sometimes comes to a half-waking state, enough that they have managed to feed him a little, but he doesn't seem to be sensible of his surroundings and won't respond to anything, only seeming to speak to his dreams. Thorin… well. Bilbo has managed to make them drink, but even that is slow and careful. Óin is getting quite worried, and Tauriel didn't seem too hopeful either the last time she visited, though they both agree Thorin isn't getting any worse at least."

"Tauriel?" Balin blinked. "The name seems familiar."

"It would be." Which Balin probably knew very well, somewhere deep in their mind, but as long as they were having trouble remembering such things, Dori didn't mind repeating the news. "She's the elf who healed Kíli in Laketown, from what I hear. Somehow Nori convinced her to help with treating Dwalin and Fíli when they lost limbs, and since then she has checked in on them every couple of days, and on Thorin as well."

"Right, that was it." Balin still seemed a bit confused, though. "And Kíli? I would have thought she would have visited me by now. Everyone else has come by at least once."

Dori made herself stay calm. She rather suspected making a big deal out of Balin's difficulties would hardly help them. "Kíli is badly injured, and is being held in the elven camps. Apparently King Thranduil considers himself in Kíli's debt for saving his son, so the elves are treating her. According to Tauriel she's awake a lot more now and is recovering rapidly, but she's still not quite well enough to be moved to the mountain."

"To think I'd see the day." Balin sighed, sinking deeper into their pillows. "Our heir treated by elves! But I'm imagining Fíli has agreed to it, so there's little enough to do about it."

"Indeed." Dori nodded, leaning closer to adjust Balin's pillows. They looked rather tired. "Fíli's made a lot of decisions that seem to call for alliance, from what Ori has told me. Did you hear the men of Dale are also staying in the mountain? So far they're mostly staying in a few large halls, but Fíli's had a few stoneworkers mark out stable areas in the living quarters and they're cleaning them out for use. They'll serve the men well for the winter, and when they move back to Dale the space will be cleared for those arriving from Thorin's Halls."

"That's good thinking. More hands to help in the mountain during the winter, and we'll get stronger allies for it, I bet. Dale was our greatest friend in the days of old Erebor, it will be good to see that rise again." Balin paused. "What came of the bargeman, the one who tried to reason with Thorin? He seemed the sensible sort. Did he make it through the battle?"

"Aye, he did. It seems he's taken the lead of his people, not because he wants it but because they want him to. Ori says he speaks for them in negotiations, and he's been arranging everything on the side of the dalefolk." This, she knew she had told Balin before, but there was no harm in saying it again.

"Good, that's good. He's a sensible one, I'd much rather deal with him than that dreadful Master." Balin shook their head. "But I've already kept you far too long, and I think you'd prefer me to get some more rest. Thank you for the food and the company."

"Any time." Dori collected the empty bowls back on the tray. "I will be back tomorrow, perhaps later tonight if I'm not needed elsewhere. Is there anything in particular you would like me to bring news about?" It was the least she could do to help, given that she was free to come and go and talk to people while Balin could hardly even make it out of their bed.

"I think you've covered it all for now, thank you, though if anything new comes up I would appreciate the word." Balin's eyes were already sliding shut. "Oh, and if you could speak with Óin, please, and see if he can do anything about this headache of mine."

"I'll be sure to do that." Though Óin and Tauriel had both agreed that beyond some temporary remedies for the worst flares of pain, all they could offer Balin was time to recover. But then, Balin had likely heard that already, they just didn't necessarily remember.

Dori paused at the door in case Balin thought of something, still, then finally made her way out. The hallway outside was deserted, but somehow even the faint sounds of people moving about their lives seemed excessively loud as she caught some hint of them echoing through the stone under her feet.

Perhaps she didn't need to worry about Ori quite so much. At least he was up and about and in one piece, and seemed to be doing fine with his newly found duties so far.

It wasn't like he could take on much more responsibility than this.

*

"Are you sure it will be all right?"

"Aye, don't you worry one bit, lad." The elderly dwarf who took his seat was lacking an eye, an old wound instead of a fresh one, but the one that he turned to Ori twinkled with intelligence and amusement both. "I promise, I know how to read and write."

"I didn't mean to suggest you couldn't!" Ori was appalled at the mere idea. He wouldn't ever be so impolite to someone who had offered to help! "It's just, I know there's a lot to be done, and it seems the arrivals haven't thinned out at all, I don't think you'll have a break until someone else comes to take your place."

"And you haven't had one in a while, I'd think. Weren't you with the prince earlier today, besides?" The dwarf shook his head, dipping the pen in ink. "Go get some rest, lad. From what I hear you've barely stopped since the battle. Won't do much good to anyone if you run yourself to exhaustion."

"Right." He felt like a scolded child, which, well, the older dwarf was more than old enough to be his parent. "Ah. I'm sorry."

"No apologies either. You're worried about all the work to be done, that's fine. I won't take a slight of it. I'll just do my job and mark down every arrival, and there'll be a nice and neat book for you to present to the prince."

"Thank you, then." With a quick bow, Ori retreated, allowing the line of dwarves to reach the desk once again. The first full caravan from Iron Hills had arrived, and they were taking down the names and trades of all arrivals, so they could find lodgings and work for everyone. Even though the first caravan was only families of soldiers and some lonely crafters, there were still dozens of them, possibly hundreds. They'd need a similar list of the men of Dale soon enough, but they had to trust Bard to provide that once they had settled in and recovered from the worst of it. For now it was quite enough trying to keep track of those arriving, and those of Dáin's soldiers who would be returning to Iron Hills once they could, and those who chose to remain in Erebor.

Well. He supposed it wasn't that much of a wonder that he felt there was rather too much to do all at once.

The old dwarf was right, though, in that he needed rest. He'd been up since early morning, running errands for Fíli and then organising the welcoming of the new arrivals and taking down their names for what seemed an age, and now they were heading towards evening. He'd have to head to their quarters and get some sleep. Fíli would need him again in the morning, no doubt, and he wouldn't do much with an assistant who kept falling asleep.

He'd almost made it to the gates of the mountain when he saw the child.

The child couldn't have been more than twenty, if even that, a tiny little thing who almost got lost in the crowd. They were looking around with wide eyes, a bag on their back and a little doll held in one hand. Ori almost continued on his way, but instead found himself drawn closer. Something about the child reminded Ori of himself, when he'd been as small. Perhaps it was the scarf wrapped around their neck, just like the ones Dori had always knotted around Ori to keep him from catching a chill, or the slightly messy cut of their still short hair.

Perhaps it was just that they looked so terribly alone and afraid.

"Hello there." Ori crouched down to get closer to the child's level. He kept his voice calm but loud enough to be heard over the surrounding hubbub, speaking his neatest Khuzdul. A child this young might not know much Westron yet, particularly one from Iron Hills. "Are you lost, little one?"

The dwarfling seemed to hesitate, but then nodded. They clutched their doll to their chest.

"Perhaps I can help you with that." Sure, he was tired, but not quite tired enough to abandon a child on their own like that. "You're new to Erebor, right? Did you come here with your parents?"

The child shook their head. Then, before Ori could ask any further questions, they spoke, their voice quiet but steady enough. "I came on my own."

"On your own?" Ori blinked. "Aren't you a bit young to be doing that?"

"I'm looking for my Da." The child looked down at the doll, holding it a bit tighter. "He's a soldier, he came here with Lord Dáin. Then some soldiers came back but Da wasn't with them. He said he'd find us a home here, before he left."

"I see." That could be bad, though Ori wasn't about to despair yet. There were plenty of Dáin's soldiers who had indeed chosen to stay to make new homes, even though they were more or less in one piece. Perhaps that was the case here and the child's father just hadn't known to come looking for them yet. "And you came here all alone? Who was looking after you while your Da came here?"

"Master Takka, from next door. I asked him!" This was added somewhat hastily, as though eager to convince Ori they hadn't just run off with the caravan. "He even helped me pack!"

"I'm sure he did." It wasn't that unreasonable, considering. The child would be safe with the caravan, and their father was supposed to be waiting. Sure, they were young, but old enough to travel with friendly people for a few days. "Can you tell me your father's name? I might be able to help you find him."

"His name is Omena." The child offered the doll up for him to take a look. It was dressed in similar clothes to those the child was wearing, with a big red beard and a pale face. "He looks like my doll."

"Right." A dwarf with red hair, called Omena. Oh, Ori could help the child indeed, but he wasn't sure it would be glad news. "And what is your name, my little friend?"

"I'm Sana, child of Omena." They gave a tiny bow, more of a nod than anything. "At your service!"

"Ori, child of Vuori, at yours." Ori gave a little bow in return, as best as he could while still crouched down. "What do you say, should we go looking for your father? I can carry you if you're tired." They were so small, Ori was sure he could handle that despite his tiredness.

"No, I can walk." Or at least they wanted to think so, and Ori wouldn't argue just yet.

"Well, then, would you like to hold my hand? Just to make sure you don't get lost with all these people rushing about."

After a moment's hesitation, Sana nodded, holding onto their doll with one hand and offering their other to Ori. Ori stood up and grasped the little hand, weaving their way toward the edge of the crowd in the direction of the healing tents.

"There's something we need to talk about, Sana." He waited until they were out of the worst of the crowd, so he could keep his voice relatively quiet and still be heard. "Your father, well… he was hurt, really badly."

"Oh?" Sana's eyes widened. "But he can be fixed, right?"

"The healers are doing their best." Though if indeed he remembered right the dwarf in question, they were somewhat baffled as to how he was still holding on to life. "However, we don't know yet if they can fix him, even though they're working hard. He was hurt very badly, and sometimes that can't be fixed."

Sana was quiet for a little while. Then they spoke, voice barely more than a whisper. "Will Da die?"

"I don't know, I'm afraid. But he might." He wished he could have put it more gently, but there was no use in mincing words when he was taking the child to meet what could well be a dying dwarf. "If he does, though, he'll go to Mahal's Halls. I'm sure they'll have a feast there, to celebrate all the brave soldiers coming home."

"I don't want him to go, though."

"I know you don't." He squeezed Sana's hand, just a little. "But I know you wouldn't want your Da to be in pain for very long, either. There's no pain in the Halls, only rest and peace."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." He had to be, for his own sake as much as that of the child. "My Ma is there, you know. It's not a bad place, just very far from here."

Sana seemed to consider this for a moment. "I don't want him to hurt," they then said, holding tighter onto Ori's hand. "If going there makes him not hurt anymore, then I don't mind it." Their voice trembled, though, not that Ori was going to draw any attention to it.

"Let's not worry about such things just yet, all right? Let's go see your father for now." He couldn't give up hope, not just yet. Not when the child was holding onto him.

The healers almost barred Sana from entering the tent, but stepped aside as they realised Ori was with them. Ori drew Sana closer as they hurried between the wounded dwarves, looking for the bushy red beard he remembered from the times he had been helping the healers.

"Da!" Of course Sana would spot him first, rushing off before Ori could do anything. At least the sight that met them wasn't too terrible. Omena was lying in bed, looking rather pale and weak, but turned his head at the sound of Sana's voice.

"Sana!" Omena tried to reach out his arms, or so Ori suspected from what little movement he made, but clearly he was lacking in strength. Instead, he lay there and smiled as Sana all but launched themselves on the bed, clinging to him. "Oh, Sana, my gem. What are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you!" Sana knelt at the edge of the narrow bed, little more than a blanket laid on the ground atop a bedroll, and clung to his father's covers. "You said you'd find a home for us!"

"So I said, little gem." As Ori walked closer, he could see a hint of tears in Omena's eyes, though any such sign was quickly blinked away. "How did you find me, though? I didn't even know to expect you, I couldn't send anyone for you."

"They helped!" Sana pointed to Ori, who was now coming up to their side, having caught up after Sana ran off. "They knew I was lost and asked me and then they found you for me!"

"Is that so?" Omena met Ori's eyes, and yes, there were definitely tears there. "In that case, I owe you my thanks, my friend. Though I seem to recall I owe them anyway, since I've seen you around here with the healers."

"I help where I can." Ori felt somewhat embarrassed, now. "They seemed lost, so helping them was the least I could do, particularly since I recognised your name."

"Not all would have bothered, though. Thank you for that."

"Da?" Sana said before Ori could respond. "I'm tired."

"Then sleep for a while, little one." Omena gave a small smile as Sana curled up next to him, bag set next to the bed, the red-haired doll held tightly in their little arms. "I love you, my nugget."

"I love you too, Da." Sana's words were hardly more than a whisper, soon turning into sleepy breaths. They must have indeed been exhausted, which wasn't a wonder given the late hour and the way they must have travelled.

"Thank you for bringing Sana to me." Omena turned his gaze to Ori. "I'm glad I got to see them one last time."

"This is not the last time, surely." Ori couldn't think of it as such. It was bad enough to face all the death in the battle; he couldn't bring himself to think of what it could be like for the child to lose their father like this, so soon after they had been reunited. At the very least, he couldn't quite say it aloud, not to the gravely injured dwarf before him.

"Don't try to lie to me, lad." The dwarf shook his head minutely. "The only reason I'm still here was because I wanted to see my child again. Now Sana's here, and I find I've no choice but to leave them behind."

Well. If Omena didn't want lies, Ori could deal in truths instead. "Do you have anyone who could take him in?" He kept his voice low and gentle. "Anyone we could contact for you?"

"No, there's no one." Omena sighed. "My family, we were from Erebor before the worm. Only few survived the dragonfire, and fewer still the years after. My mother died ten years ago. Sana's all I have." Which, in turn, meant that the child had no one but him, either.

"No friends, either? Sana mentioned staying with a neighbour."

"Oh, aye, good old Takka. He's a fine dwarf, but he's growing frail, far too old to be running after a child. I'd wager he wasn't even fit enough to travel, and that's why he sent Sana here on their own." Omena closed his eyes briefly. "I meant to find us a new life here, to bring them to the home that was robbed from me. Instead, they'll be left all alone in the world."

"I'll take them." The words were out before Ori realised it, but he neither could nor would take them back. Not when the wounded dwarf looked at him with such a mixture of mad hope and disbelief. "Ah. I know I'm young, I really am, I've barely reached my majority and haven't even declared myself yet. But I was with the Company, so I've got plenty of gold to my name, I know I can afford to raise a child. And there's many people I can ask for help in raising them, and —"

"Peace, lad." Omena lifted his hand to stop Ori's burst, though it only barely left the bed. "I don't doubt your ability; wouldn't think you'd offer if you thought yourself incapable. I do wonder, though, why you'd bother with the nameless orphan of a nameless dwarf."

"Because I was that orphan once." Ori shook his head. "My mother died when I was still in the crib. My eldest sister had just come of age, and she raised me more or less as her own. Some might say she was only doing her duty, but the fact remains she spent half her life looking after me instead of living it for herself."

"If what you say is true, and she truly raised you as her own, then she never thought of it as that." Omena's voice was rough. "A parent would not think of it as time lost."

"Perhaps so. Either way, I can't bear to think of walking away from a dwarfling without a family to call their own." Ori touched Sana's shoulder. The child didn't move, just made a soft sound in their sleep. "I may not be the best person to take them in, but I swear they will not be left alone, not as long as I live."

"You mean it." Omena gave him a searching gaze. "And would you give them your name as well?"

"Would you want me to?" That surprised him somewhat. It did happen sometimes that a dwarfling might be raised by someone not their kin, but even then they usually stuck with the name of their original parents.

"There's little enough for them to claim in my name, with a dead line and fading memory. I'd like for Sana to remember me, but more than that I want them to have a family that's their own." Omena paused, looking down at the sleeping child. "Besides, they were stoneborn, a gift from Mahal to my heart. If you can take them into your heart, surely they are yours as much as they ever were mine."

Ori paused. This wasn't something to be decided lightly, he knew that much. If he agreed to this, he could never step away again. However, as he looked at the exhausted child, he also knew he had little choice in the matter. "I will, then." He looked Omena in the eye. "If that is your wish, I will take them in my name."

"Do you promise?" Omena stared at him with intent eyes. "Do you swear to do so? You aren't just trying to soothe a dying soldier?"

"I swear it on my honour, and on the honour of my family." Ori paused. "Ah. I'm a scribe by trade, actually, and know something of contracts. If you wish, I could write a contract for us to sign, so you will know without a doubt that they will be mine."

He almost expected Omena to waver at this, to balk at the suggestion of such permanence, but instead the dwarf nodded. "Aye, do that. Quickly, while I still have the strength to draw my mark."

Ori did not have ink and paper on him then and there, but he had learnt a few things since the battle, and one of those things was that when one of the Company made a request, it was very quickly answered. He was brought the supplies quickly enough after asking one of the healers for them, and set to work at once, Omena watching him with tired eyes while Sana slept on. He wasn't sure he remembered all the fine details of the craft of contracts, but he was certain the words he chose were binding enough. Not that there would soon be anyone left to question them, anyway.

Óin came by as he was finishing up, and Ori asked him to sign as a witness. He expected the old dwarf to protest, to question his decision, but instead Óin just looked at him with tired eyes that were still sharp despite his age and took the newly drafted document. Quickly scanning the lines of text, he added his signature on the appropriate line, a quick, sharp scrawl that was nevertheless legible enough. Ori added his own next, then gave the document to Omena, setting the pen in a tired hand.

He might have expected the dwarf to hesitate, to at least pause before signing. Instead, Omena signed his name without a moment's hesitation, his hand moving slowly but steadily, giving away the last precious thing he had left in the world for the sake of seeing it safe. As he finished, the pen fell from his hand, his eyes turning to Ori.

"Take good care of your child, my friend," Omena murmured, and Ori had to swallow around a lump in his throat. "They're the most precious jewel you'll ever find in these stones."

"I know," Ori whispered, watching as Omena moved his hand with great effort to rest it on Sana's dark hair. He was tired but he could not leave, and even less could he even dream of taking Sana with him. Instead he sat next to the bed and listened to Omena's breaths growing weaker and weaker, sliding off to sleep as he finally lost the battle to exhaustion curled up at the side of the dying dwarf's bed.

When he woke, it was to a crying child trying desperately to shake their father awake, not realising he was beyond cries already.

*

Ori wasn't back yet.

Of course, Dori had already worried the night before, when Ori hadn't arrived when she expected him to. However, she had managed to think of several explanations — perhaps Fíli had needed him for something at the last minute, or he hadn't been able to find a replacement for processing all the arrivals, goodness knew that sort of thing could sometimes take a while. Besides, it wasn't like he could get himself into much actual trouble in the mountain at the moment, and if anything had happened someone would have let her know immediately. It had been with these thoughts that she had managed to fell into fitful sleep, only to be startled awake by the slightest sound.

It was almost morning already as her efforts were rewarded, the sound turning out to be the opening of the door. She got up to her feet immediately, quite prepared to unleash all her worry and fears on Ori for doing such a thing without even sending her a word, only to be stopped by the sight of something she hadn't expected in the doorway. It was Ori, yes, looking tired but in one piece, but there was someone else with him.

"Ori?" Dori had been so prepared to yell, it took a conscious effort to keep her voice low to avoid waking the child sleeping in Ori's arms. "What's this?"

"This is Sana," Ori replied, in what both was and wasn't an answer to her question. He brushed past her into the room, leaving her to close the door as he headed for where his bedroll was set up. Dori watched as he set the child down with very much care, covering them up with a blanket before standing up. "Please don't wake them, they've had a trying time."

"Right." Dori could be quiet, yes. That didn't mean she was just going to ignore all this. "And I'm assuming they have something to do with why exactly it's almost dawn and you're only just getting home?"

"Actually, yes." Ori looked her in the eye, now, looking almost defiant. "I adopted them."

"I — what?" Surely she had heard wrong. Ori couldn't have said that.

"I adopted them." Ori sat down heavily on one of the stone benches along the wall, settling down both his bag and one Dori didn't recognise at his feet. "They came with the caravan, looking for their father. Except he was dying, and didn't have anyone to take them. So, I promised to do just that."

"You're serious." It sounded like a bad joke, but she hoped Ori wouldn't joke about something like this. Not with such a grave look on his face, not with that mix of exhaustion and determination in his eyes.

"I am." Ori nodded. "I drafted a contract and we both signed it, with Óin as a witness, and then he died. Sana's my child in law and in name, and if you want to yell at me for taking on even more responsibilities, try not to wake them up while doing so. They need the rest."

It rather looked like Ori himself needed the sleep even more desperately, but that was hardly the issue at hand here. "And why would you do something like that?"

"Because you didn't raise me to be the kind of a dwarf who would leave an orphaned child alone in a strange mountain with nobody to rely on."

"That still doesn't mean you have to take such drastic steps! You call this a responsibility, but you can't possibly understand just how much of one it is. They are, what, fifteen? No more than twenty, that's for sure. You've tied your life to theirs for the next fifty years at the very least, and your heart longer than that." Because she knew Ori far too well than to imagine he could call someone his family and not grow to love them. He even had it in his heart to love her, after all.

"You did the same for me, didn't you? You weren't much older than I am now, and I was still in the cradle. But from what Nori tells me, you never even hesitated about taking me in. How could I do anything less?"

"That's not the same thing." Perhaps her voice was a bit rougher than it should have been, concealing the bit in her throat she was trying to swallow. "You were family even before our mother died." Even before Dori had failed him for the first time.

"I'm stoneborn, it's not like we share any flesh and blood." Ori was doing a remarkable job of keeping his voice level and calm, no doubt trying not to startle the child. "If Mahal giving me to our mother was enough to make us family, why couldn't Mahal have made more connection than that? Maybe He always planned for you to take me in after our mother died. Then who's to say He didn't guide me to Sana as well?"

Ori could not have any idea how deep his words cut, yet it took all the mental fortitude Dori had not to flinch away. "That's still not the same thing and you know it."

"And why not? Sana's stoneborn too, their father told me so. They didn't even look alike at all, but nobody would ever say they aren't family, because Mahal gave Sana to him." Ori paused. "You once told me that when a child is meant to be carved, their parents hear them crying from the stone even if no one else can hear the sound. I was the only one who noticed Sana there all on their own, even though we were surrounded by people. Why is that not the same?"

"The kid might be right, you know." Nori's voice was quiet but so sudden it very nearly made Dori jump. Nori was sitting up on their bedroll, running a hand through their hair, but their eyes were sharp enough to indicate they had been awake a while, no doubt listening. "Something drew him to take in the child, and I'm not wise enough or bold enough to say it wasn't Mahal instead of just chance. And either way, what difference does it make? Whatever inspired him to take in the child, it's done now."

"Nori is right, you know." She saw the tension around Ori's eyes, heard the steel in his voice that so rarely came out. "I couldn't take back my word even if I wanted to, not with it all written and signed. I may have no idea how to care for a child, but I'll just have to make it work somehow."

"What of your other duties?" She was grasping at straws, and she knew that, but then it was a lost battle already. "What about Fíli? You've promised to help him, and now you're just going to abandon him like that?"

"I'm not abandoning anyone." Ori's voice took on a slightly more fiery tone. "Sana's old enough they can come with me most of the time. And if sometimes they can't, if things are too confidential or something, well, either I'll find a way around that or I'll find someone to take my place. I do want to help Fíli, and will do so to the best of my abilities, but he has others who can help him. Sana has nobody but me."

"That's not true." Dori swallowed, shaking her head. "Sana has us, too. If you've decided to make them your family, then they are our family as well."

Ori blinked, looking surprised, and oh, how lowly had he thought of her? "You'll help me, then?"

"Of course." She stepped closer, setting a hand on his shoulder. "I still don't like the idea of you shouldering so many responsibilities so soon, not when I've worked so hard to give you an easier life than mine was. But Nori is right. There's nothing I can do to change it, and you're old enough to make your own decisions. Mahal knows there were many who would have liked to tell me I was being a fool for taking you in, and I was no more inclined to listen to them." Even if her motives had been rather less selfless.

"Dori's got more practical experience in this, and is probably the better help overall, but I can look after the child sometimes if need be." Nori stood up, now, stretching themselves. "The sickroom is probably a bit boring for a child so small, but it's warm and safe, so if you have nowhere else to put them I can watch them for a while. It's not like you can catch a missing limb."

"I'll help you get everything sorted out." Right. This she could do. "Do they have any belongings?"

"Far as I know, everything they own is in this bag." Ori nodded down at the strange bag at his feet. That explained that, then. "I don't really know what they'll need. More clothes, I think? And their own bedding, and toys, I suppose. Bofur can probably help with that."

"No doubt." Goodness, Bofur would probably be overjoyed at being able to make toys for a child of one of the Company. "What are you going to do about your work today? You'll have to head off to Fíli soon enough, and I don't think it would be good for them to wake up with strangers."

"I'm not going today. I asked Óin to tell his sibling, since Glóin always helps Fíli in the mornings. They can pass the word so Fíli knows what's going on until I can talk to him myself."

"Excellent. In that case, you can get some sleep as well. You can borrow my bedroll, it's not like I'm going to sleep much right now anyway." Ori looked about to protest, but Dori shushed him. "Oh, no. You're not going to be of any help to anyone if you drive yourself to exhaustion. The child is asleep, you can sleep as well. I'll wake you up when they wake and then you can introduce us, and after that we'll see what we can do to make this place a home instead of just a room where we all happen to sleep sometimes. A dry place to set our beds may have been good enough in a pinch, but it's no place to put a child who no doubt needs all the comfort they can get right now."

"I'd listen to Dori if I were you." And for once, Nori was actually trying to help rather than take the opportunity to make subtle shots at her. Of course, they were pretending not to care much about the situation, busying themselves with looking for a hairbrush, but Dori knew their sibling too well. If Nori wasn't invested in the subject, they might have made a sharp quip or two, but they wouldn't have tried to actually contribute. "I'll stop by and see your princeling later today if that'll calm you down, see how he's doing without you."

"Ah — thank you, Nori. Thank you both." Now, Ori seemed to slump a little. "I… I think I'm in way over my head here. But I just couldn't leave them alone…"

"I know you couldn't. You're right, that's not the kind of dwarf I raised you to be." Dori crouched to get to Ori's level where he was seated to look him in the eye. "I won't lie and say it'll be easy, but you've got us, and the rest of the Company too, I'd bet."

"Right." Ori blinked, then yawned. "I guess I should get some of that sleep, huh."

"Indeed you should." Dori nodded firmly. "Off to bed with you, young dwarf. You've got a lot of growing up to do."

"Yes, yes." Ori made to stand up, then surprised Dori by pulling her into a hug instead before actually standing and heading over to Dori's now empty bed. He lay down and was asleep almost immediately.

Dori could feel Nori's eyes on her. "Don't say anything."

"I don't need to, do I?"

The worst thing was, Nori was right. Dori knew precisely what they would have said, knew the protests she could have made, knew how useless they were. She should have told Ori, and she would, just… not yet.

She wanted to keep this a little while longer.

*

"Good morning, Your Highness."

"Ugh." Fíli closed his eyes even tighter, for all that he knew it to be entirely futile. "I don't suppose I can ask you to stop that?"

"You can always ask, lad. Don't think I'm likely to listen, though." With eyes still closed, Fíli heard Glóin puttering about the room. "Anyway, time to get up and about. There's a lot to do, and it's not getting any easier by waiting."

"I suppose you're right." Even so, he couldn't resist waiting for another moment before he actually opened his eyes and glanced around. The fire was burning low, making the room nice and warm. His usual outfit for the day — the one decent one he had for now, gobbled together from some pieces brought over from Iron Hills and what he was fairly sure was one of Thorin's tunics — was waiting for him on a chair, and Glóin had set a plate with a light breakfast nearby. Fíli got himself sitting up and flung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the plate. "Anything special today?"

"Not much. There's a message for you, but from what I got from the raven it's nothing urgent, probably just Dáin asking about the arrival of the first caravan." Glóin dug around in the few items Fíli had lying around until they located a brush. "Oh, and Ori can't help you today, so I suppose I'll be filling in more. My writing's nowhere near as neat, but I know my runes well enough."

"Oh?" Fíli frowned, carefully balancing the plate on his knees as he started to eat. "Did something happen?"

"You could say that." Glóin snorted, getting on the bed next to Fíli. It should have felt strange, having someone else brushing and braiding his hair at this age, but by now Fíli had resigned himself to it. And anyway, Glóin was his cousin, his closest kin in the mountain who wasn't either bedridden or busy looking after the injured, so it wasn't like there was anything inappropriate about it. Just another reminder of just how helpless he was on his own, nothing worse than that. "Seems he picked something up from the caravan that arrived yesterday."

"And what's that?" Fíli tried to glance at Glóin to get some more clues from their expression, but a sharp tug at his hair reminded him just why that was a bad idea. An unkempt regent just wouldn't do, but one with his hair all pulled out would hardly be any better. "Ow! Watch it! Anyway, is something wrong with Ori? He didn't get sick or anything, did he?"

"Your own fault for moving when I'm brushing it," Glóin said, their tone so reminiscent of Fíli's mother when he had been younger that he was all too easily reminded that Glóin was, in fact, a parent. "But sick, no. I'm sure he'll be right as rain, once he's got everything figured out. You might want to be prepared for the fact that he can't devote all his time to you in the future, though."

"You speak like I'm keeping Ori all to myself!" Not that he minded the company and the help, of course, but it just wasn't true. Ori had other duties, too, like taking notes on the new arrivals just the day before, and they both needed their breaks from work and each other both. There really was no reason for Glóin to sound like Fíli was monopolising Ori's time from dawn until dusk.

"For the greater part of the day you are. Which is fine, since it seems he's actually a good help for you, but it seems he's taken on some other responsibilities." Glóin must have sensed Fíli's growing frustration or else decided not to tease him any further, as they finally gave up on concealing things any further. "I hear he got himself a child."

"He — what?" Fíli blinked. That didn't make any sense. "A child? Why? How? I hardly think the arrivals are just handing them away!"

"Well, I don't know the details, mind, only what my brother told me before he passed out for the night." Glóin kept brushing away the last remnants of Fíli's braids from the day before, hands never faltering. It was almost comforting, the feel of their hands in Fíli's hair. "Apparently the child's father was one of Dáin's soldiers, only he got badly hurt in the battle. The kid was sent here on the caravan since the father hadn't returned, except he was dying, just holding on to see his child." Glóin's tone took on a more serious tone, and Fíli wondered if they were thinking of their own little Gimli. "Ori's the one who helped the child find their parent, so when he realised the situation, he offered to take the child as his own."

"That does sound like Ori." For all his smarts, Ori did sometimes think with his heart before his head.

"It does, doesn't it?" Glóin glanced over Fíli's shoulder. "You done with the food? We need to get you dressed nice and proper, I'm not wasting my time on braids before you pull everything over your head."

"As done as I'm likely to get." Fíli set aside his mostly empty plate, then manoeuvred his way into the binding vest that was handed to him, letting Glóin adjust it where he couldn't. Then came the rest of his clothes, all much slower than he was used to, but he still wouldn't accept any more help than was absolutely necessary. Glóin seemed to respect that, only stepping closer when asked or when it was obvious Fíli needed their help for some closure or clasp. At last he was respectably dressed, and Glóin herded him to sit on the bed again so they could get to work on the braids. "I'm fairly sure Thorin never went through this much trouble for their appearance."

"For formal occasions, yes they did. And when you are representing the line of Durin so soon after a battle, every time you step out of your room is a formal occasion."

"I suppose." Fíli sighed. "I just wish this were easier, somehow."

"I'm sure we all wish it for you." Glóin's hands were doing quick work of Fíli's hair. "But you know we're all going to help you any way we can."

"Yes, I know." It was the only reason he had any faith he might be able to do this. "And believe me, I am very grateful for it."

"Eh, no need." Glóin hummed thoughtfully, tugging at the braid to tighten it a bit. "I've been meaning to ask, though. How are you paying for all the repairs and reparations? You've been making a lot of promises, I hear."

"It's all from my share, and Bilbo's, if need be. I know Thorin planned on spending their own share for that, but since they're not awake to give an opinion I don't want to count my payments against their share."

"That's very selfless of you." Glóin fastened off a braid and moved on to the next one.

"Yes, well, what do I do with that much gold anyway? I don't even know how much my one fourteenth would be, but I'm sure it would be much more than I could ever spend in all my life." Fíli sighed. Just thinking about the huge treasure trove was making his head ache. "I know I should get to counting out everyone's shares, but I have just too much on my plate at once. But rest assured that I'm keeping count of every coin I'm spending in the name of the crown, and it's all coming out of the treasure after it's been divided, not before."

"Right." Glóin gave a little sound of agreement. "Would you like me to take charge of that? When I'm not busy helping you, that is. I could see to some estimate at least of the amount of treasure and talk with the rest of the Company on how to handle the dividing of it all."

"Careful, I'll soon name you the royal treasurer in my gratefulness." Mahal knew Glóin was the best person he could have hoped to take on the task, but he wouldn't have dreamed of simply assigning such a monumental project to someone.

"I've been called worse names in my life." Glóin tugged at the new braid. "Now sit still and quiet and I'll be done all the sooner."

It was, not surprisingly, the last moment Fíli had for staying still and quiet for quite a while. There were many things and even more people demanding his attention, and while he could handle most of it sitting down, he was still utterly exhausted by afternoon. Glóin was doing their best to help, of course, but it was a lot of trouble for them to simply figure out everything that needed to be done, not having the experience that Ori had been gaining ever since Fíli woke up after the battle.

It was almost dinner time by the time he finally got a moment to himself. Of course, there was still work to be done, but at least he got to have a brief breather without anyone bothering him about something.

He might have muttered a curse when he heard the knock on the door, but he accounted it a great triumph that he did not actually say it aloud.

"Come in," he called out, trying to mask the exhaustion in his voice. He had no idea who would be seeking him out, but hopefully it would not be about anything too urgent. He did not have the energy for anything urgent right now.

He half expected to see Glóin returning, or perhaps someone bringing his dinner early. Instead he was surprised to see Nori opening the door and stepping in. "You've got good guards, I'll say that," Nori said in lieu of a greeting. "Actually asked me if I had business here as soon as I came into sight instead of just letting me get close."

"Aye, Dáin picked some of his best to stay behind." And they truly had to be good if they'd even questioned a member of the Company just because Nori wasn't one of those usually visiting him. Not that Fíli didn't fully trust every member of the Company, but he'd rather take overly eager guards than ones who might be slacking. "Ah. Was there something I can help you with?" He was biting down on the words that wanted to escape, asking about Ori. He had to be Regent first and Fíli second, now, as long as that blasted circlet was on his head.

"Just wanted to talk, that's all. Thought I'd let Ori know how you're holding up without him." Nori glanced at the papers Fíli had spread out in front of him, with some tentative numbers Glóin had marked down for him to consider. "I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?" And what was the world coming to, that Nori would worry about interrupting Fíli?

"Just trying to decide if I should pay the engineers and stoneworkers by the hour or by the area for checking new rooms for safety and stability." Fíli sighed. "If we had the time, I would pay by the hour, just to make sure they are thorough. However, time is something we don't have in abundance, with the mountain filling up and winter closing in. We can't house everyone in large halls for the whole winter while the engineers take their sweet time working through the rooms."

"By area, but give a bonus for any major flaws they find." Nori's response was immediate. "Only pay out if two teams give the same report without consulting each other, though. That way you can be sure they note down any major problems they find that would make a space unsafe, but they won't spend their time cataloguing every misplaced pebble because at some point it will be better to move on to the next room. This way you won't have anyone making up flaws where there are none, but they also won't gloss over anything important just to move on."

"That might work." Fíli nodded, frowning. "However, that'd require a lot of coordination that I have neither the time nor the skills for." Or the energy, if he were being honest. Just his current duties were draining him very nearly to his limit. "I'd need someone I can trust to make sure nobody tries to get around the checks."

"How about one of the Urs? Bifur and Bofur both have a great sense for stone from what I understand, and have worked in mines before."

"That would do well, I think. They don't have any current responsibilities, I don't think." Fíli gathered the papers up somewhat awkwardly with one hand, resolving to suggest this solution to Glóin. He had no doubt Glóin could speak with whoever Fíli appointed to organise the safety efforts to figure out the best payment rates. "So how is Ori? Glóin told me something about why he isn't here, but I wasn't sure how much of that I should believe."

"If you heard he got himself a child, then you heard right." Nori shook their head. "He's in way over his head, I think, but that never stopped him before. If Dori's had her way they've spent today getting clothes and such things for the child, or what they can find with the mountain being in this state, at least. Ori's also been busy trying to figure out how he can keep helping you while caring for the child."

"Well, let him know I won't require his help for a few days at least, so he can take his time figuring everything out. And when things are more settled, I would rather like to meet this surprise child of his." Fíli managed a small smile despite his creeping exhaustion. "Mahal knows we all need more reasons for cheer, and a child seems like plenty of reason for such to me, regardless of the circumstances."

"At least when you know you can feed and clothe the child." And that was somewhat cynical to Fíli's eyes, but he knew better than to argue with such statements with someone who came from humbler beginnings than his own. The exile had not been easy on anyone, even the noble houses, but his mother and uncle had made sure he knew that his life had still been rather privileged in comparison with that of many of their people. Now he stood steward to one of the greatest treasures ever amassed in the history of Middle Earth, but he still couldn't afford to forget that fact.

Not if he wanted to bring honour to the title he bore and not even more shame.

"I'm hoping to one day have a mountain where nobody will have to worry about such things when welcoming a child." He was indeed hoping so, wasn't just saying it for the sake of appeasing Nori. Thorin had given their people a home twice over, and now they had the opportunity to actually make that home prosperous and not simply adequate.

"We'll see how well you do with that, then, Your Highness." Nori's eyes were sharp for a moment before softening almost imperceptibly. "I'll pass along the word to Ori, then. Anything else you want me to tell him?"

There were so many things he would have wanted to say, so many small remarks throughout the day he would have wished to make to Ori who was not there, yet not many he could pass along, certainly not through Nori of all people. "Just that Glóin has been helping me in his absence, so if he's worrying about inconveniencing anyone by putting his other responsibilities first, he may want to consider whether he actually wants to look Glóin in the eye and tell them anything could be more urgent than making sure his child has everything they need."

This earned him a brief smirk from Nori. "You're an underhanded one, I see, and know Ori a little too well. That's good. He'll need someone who can give as good as they get, seeing how he can be pretty underhanded himself, sometimes."

"And I'm sure you have no idea where he would have learnt any such traits."

"Absolutely none. I would be appalled if I wasn't so very proud." Nori shook their head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm fairly sure Óin should be done with poking at Dwalin for now, so I should be making an appearance."

"Right. Thanks for checking in with me for Ori."

"Hey, it'll make my own life easier. Ori's more similar to Dori than he'd like to admit; if I hadn't come he would be worrying himself sick that you're basically helpless without him looking after you."

"Now, that's harsh. I do have other people looking after me, after all." Though he was not going to comment on the helplessness. That was not a chat he particularly needed to have.

"And I'll be sure to tell him that." Nori nodded at him, then left the room without another word. It was kind of a relief, truly, that some people still didn't think they needed to stand on ceremony around him all the time.

He needed to hold onto that bit of normalcy, since it was all he had left.


End file.
